Rath, Gunslinger
by rath malone
Summary: Set before Roland was born. Cort, his teacher, rides with a man about to begin his long journey for the Tower. Betrayal, romance, death who want's anything less. Completed.
1. Wandering the Desert of Mind

Wandering the Desert of Mind

Wind blows sand across the desert. Sun bakes the ground. Turn in any direction. Emptiness covers the horizon. Any creature with sense wouldn't be traveling through this wasteland.

A lone man walking up a sand dune. Must have never heard of this advice.

Looking at this figure one notices something strange. Hands tied behind his back. Would be a good guess. Or that a shroud covered body being dragged by a rope wrapped around his neck could spark curiosity.

His foot hit soft sand causing him to land face first into the sand. Spitting sand from his mouth one would wonder how one got into this predicament. Our subject happens to be past the point of how. Now the point of wandering through his memories as his legs carry him through this desert occupies his attention. Joining this trip down memory lane could answer our questions.

Warning some will make sense, other will not. Like all trips, this has no chronological order. Currently the one playing inside his skull makes no sense.

On a hill top view of a town covering the scenery. This view can't be seen by the blind folded girl.

His hand brushes a red object against her left bare shoulder. Stroking her neck follows. Sliding under her chin to her mouth. Her teeth snapped at the object. He pulled it away quickly.

Stopping at the tip of her nose. Moving to her right cheek. Slowly stroking it. Tracing her lips came next.

Her tongue touched it. Snapping at it. Her teeth sunk into the soft meat. Pleasure appeared on her face as the sweet juice oozed down her throat.

"Strawberry!" she cheered.

He pushed her backwards. Leaned over her. Her left hand reached out and touched his right cheek.

After lip contact, she said, "Lips don't count."

"Wanted to know if lips are sweeter than strawberries," came the reply.

"Well?"

"The judge hasn't decided yet. Maybe sleeping with the judge could hurry the decision."

She removed the red blindfold. Studying the face of the man leaning above her.

"Not giving up. Are you?"

"With you...no," sliding to her left side.

She leaned above him. Kissed his forehead.

"Not until my ready," laying her head on his chest.

"Ok, won't force you," stroking her red hair.

"Knew I loved you for a reason."

"Fine, can't satisfy my sexual hungry," sitting up, "but let's satisfy my physical hungry."

Her fingers tapped against the red and white checkered picnic blanket as he dug through picnic basket.

"What is it with food and sex?"

"That is the only two joys we men have."

"Cars?"

"Mechanical ineptitude denies me that joy."

Her chin rested on his right shoulder as he continued digging.

"Found it," he exclaimed grabbing the zip-loc bag.

Opening the bag. Taking a deep breath of the fragrance. Torn into the bread with his teeth.

Chewing, he remarked, "Peanut butter. Interesting things can be done with peanut butter."

"Thought you were going to wait," staring at him.

"One can dream," staring back, "can't I."

"True," kissing his lips.

Her tongue licked her lips

"Now I have a question needing an answer."

"What would that be?" he asked.

"Do you taste better then peanut butter?"

"It is better on the eyes."

"True, you're not fatting on the hips."

Inching close to her. Noses touching.

"We can always prove that theory."

Lips connected, "Won't give up, will you?"

Smiling, he said, "Seeing if you're paying attention."

"Ain't it a loving day," still staring at him.

"Not as loving as you."

"Still buttering me up."

"No, just commenting, besides buttering you will have to wait."

Puzzlement sketched across her face. Grabbing the chance, he kissed her. She landed on her back with their lips still locked.

His lips went under her chin. Down the neck. Her tube top allowed him on her bare shoulder.

When he skipped her chest to her stomach, she reassured herself that kissing doesn't equal to doing sex.

The breeze brushed strands of her hair into her face. After swiping the strands away, she noticed kissing stopped. Cranking her head up, saw that his attention was somewhere else. Following his graze to a black dot in the middle of town back ground scene. It grew until a black mass blocked out the town. The wind grew volatile as the mass grew.

Getting up, their picnic supplies blew away. The wind roared in their ears making it hard to hear each other.

He pushed her towards a thick wide tree. Taking his belt tied her to the tree. Something smacked the back of his head. After hitting the ground, he began sliding towards the black mass.

"David!" yelling above the wind.

"Allison!" escaped from his lips before all went black.

"Allison," mumbled the man on the sand.

His eyes opened. Rising until his knees held him up. Studying his surrounding. He wasn't on a hilltop with a strange girl. No, the wasteland was his location.

He knew there was a continuing part to that dream, but for now he continued in the direction he chose.


	2. Rivals Become Friends

Rivals Become Friends

His head laid on the shrouded body. His eyes stared at the stars above him.

"Is Cort staring at the same sky as me?" he wondered.

Closing his eyes. His mind drifted. Fire crackled in his ear. His nose detected smoke. His hat tipped over his eyes. His eyes were closed, but ears remained opened. His ears detected two voices over the fire. He laid undisturbed. Two voices, a man and woman, belonged to Cort and April.

They were having a palaver around the fire. She was asking questions. They were about him.

"How long have you rode with Rath?" she asked.

"He didn't tell," answered Cort.

"All he ever mentioned was he was an orphan."

"Well, before Terra, I lived in Gilead."

"What does this have to do with Rath?"

"To know his history is to know mine."

He lit a match. Sulphur blew in Rath's direction. Burning tobacco followed the sulphur.

Taking a drag, Cort continued, "Fardo, my father, is the training gunslinger in Gilead. He trained me since I came from my mother's stomach. I reached the age of trouble making. My father sent me to Terra. To control my impulses."

"Let me guess a woman was involved."

"Correct. So at Terra, I was under the training of Thorth."

"Not Cob?"

"That came later. Anyways Thorth bullied his apprentices. Both physically and mentally."

"Didn't Cob know?"

"Two reasons. One he wasn't the Dinh Gunslinger yet. Second no one knew. Thorth scared silence among us."

"Why didn't you do anything?"

"Didn't know any better. Plus I didn't have any friends. The other apprentices concerned me a brat cause of my father being atraining gunslinger,"taking a dragfrom a new cigarette.

"Here," he said properly offering April a cigarette.

Both took a drag of tobacco.

"Well it wasn't easy. Rath appeared. Like God sending a judge during troubled times. St. Edwards gave Rath to Cob. That didn't please Thorth."

"Why?"

"It skipped the drawing. Rath had no drawing. Thorth begun believing Rath was a spy."

"What would Rath be spying for?"

"To uncover Thorth mistreatment. Remember Tzu saying that a guiltily mind will trap your foe."

"Yes, plus it makes one's mind clouded. Therefore making mistakes."

"Correct. Thorth's guilt made him try to destroy Rath."

"How?"

"Rath was attacked consciously by Thorth's apprentices including me. It made my stomach turn."

"What did Rath do?"

"He fought back. That was what broke Thorth's hold on us. Little by little. More we assaulted Rath, more Thorth's control slipped away."

"What did he do?"

"Ruin Rath's chances of graduating to gunslinger and I lost the stick vote," he said stroking the flames.

"The shortest?"

"No, longest."

"How were you post to do it?"

"You're thinking that Rath had to do hand to hand combat like us. He didn't. Running an obstacle course was his way of graduating. My job was to make sure he failed. A leather strap was tied around his right wrist and my left wrist. We ran down the canyon route. I pushed him in every object along that route. He held his angry. Finally we came to the rope bridge. I tripped him. Before he went over I was post to cut the rope. That way he was disqualified from graduating. His momentum surprised me and I followed him over th rope railing. He hooked his arm around the railing. He ordered me climb up the rope then him. After returning on the bridge, I had him. Cut the robe and break his grip. My mission would be successful. "

"You had a change of heart."

"Correct, and I helped him back onto the bridge. Tried apologizing, but he said, '"You can be sorry later. Let's finish this course."' and we did. Thorth wasn't happy. He challenged the result."

"What next happened?"

"Rath in turned challenged him to hand to hand combat. It never happened. I confessed to trying to ruin Rath. Also Thorth's part in the affair got exposed."

"Well?"

"His apprentices started to tell all the abuse Thorth did."

"All well, ends well."

"Not quite. There were still loyalists to Thorth. They jumped me. Even Thorth was there. They few licks in before Rath showed up."

"Both were able to beat them."

"No, their numbers were too great and we were not the polished gunslingers we are today. "

"Well?"

"Well Thorth had a shooter pointed at us. He was going to make it look like we killed each other. Me trying to ruin Rath's chances of graduating and Rath gaining vengeance. Cob saved our hides. Thorth and his loyal apprentices were sent out west."

"So that was the end of him?"

"No, he tried to raise a rebellion. Cob smashed it. That was how Cob became Dinh Gunslinger,"

Standing up and popping his lower back, "Get some sleep, April. You'll have to replace Rath on night watch."

Sitting on a rock, Rath stared at the night sky. He replaced Cort for night watch. Soon he'll be replaced by April. Feet moving closer to him. Their were close behind. Quickly he drew his shooter, spun around, and aimed at a blanket wrapped April.

"Almost shot your foolish pretty head," he said reholstering his shooter.

"You like my pretty head too much to shoot it."

"Why are you up? Couple more hours your shift begins," returning to sit on the rock

"Figure you needed company," standing in front of him.

"What kind of company do you think I need?"

"The female type," opening the blanket.

Staring at her naked body, he commented, "You're going to get cold dressed like that."

Wrapping the blanket around both of them as she sat on his lap staring into his face, she remarked, "Sharing body heat will keep me warm."

"How about sharing life stories?" he asked.

"You were not a sleep."

"A light sleep. Enough to do this shift. So what did you get out of the palaver."

"You don't talk about your past much."

"It remains unknown until skeleton hunters appear."

"So I'm a skeleton hunter," she said getting up.

His hands around her waist stopped her from rising.

"No, just a curious panther," he said slipping off the rock.

He pulled her on top of him.

"So what are you doing?" she asked as he joined her under the blanket.

"Taking a risking gamble," he kissing her lips.

Staring up at the starring sky, a smile appeared across his blistered sun baked lips. The memory blocked out the slight pain.


	3. Betting on a Horse

Betting on a Horse

As his boots struck the sand, the memory of meeting April Rivera filled his mind.

Sea port of Aquaiel appeared before them. Riding for months since the mono dropped them off at the station of Dodge Star.

Riding through streets in a pyramid formation, one leading two following. Building pasted them. Three men riding horses was a common sight in Aquaiel. Except Rath and Cort never been to a seaport before now.

The towns, they visited before, all had the same appearance. Dull color existed in those towns. It was the dust that gave them that dull sight. It covered everyone and everything. Aquaiel had a brightness to it.

They stared at the people walking on the wooden sidewalks. Men, dressed like them, were clean.

Sailors and fishermen had sense of dress style. But that didn't have them wide eyed. It was the women that did. Their bright colored dresses captured their attention.

"Stop gapping!" yelled short man on the white and brown lead horse.

They stared at the back of Cob, their master. He choose them cause their kept him on his toe or, as they believed, punishment for something Cob found out about. Being the Dinh, one thinks easy responsibility. Why Cob still takes apprentices? No one can figure. However Rath and Cort proved to be his pride and headache. Pride won't pass his lips, but headache will.

"Acting like you two never seen women before," he continued.

They didn't comment just followed his lead. Since he knew who they were here for, they'll let his temper stay cold until the new apprentice appears. They stopped at the post office.

"Stay here and no trouble making," Cob said sliding off the saddle.

After Cob's back disappear behind the door, the one on the gray horse slid off the saddle.

"Rath, where're you going?" asked the one on the brown horse. .

"To check out the local saloon, Cort," he answered.

Cort didn't remind him of Cob's warning because he would've done the same thing if he had thought of it first.

Rath came to the swinging saloon doors. Shells were carved in the dark wood. Half naked women with fish tails swam over the wooden sea. Waves crashed into each other at the center of the doors.

Peering over the doors into the saloon room. The room had barely any customers. Typical slow day. The few existing customers were scattered among the tables. Couple saloon girls served the drinks coming from the bartender. A table with poker players caught his attention. Pushing the doors inward, he walked towards the bar.

He ordered a mug. When dark liquor filled the mug, some went down his throat. He wasn't much a drinker, but learning from more experienced drinkers at Terra. He knew water down liquor when he tasted it.

"Hey!" slamming down his mug down.

"Yes," stammered the bartender.

Smart bartenders don't like being accused of tampering with the liquor. This was look like he needed to be somewhere else.

"This is watered liquor," he shot at the cowering man.

A hand landed on his right shoulder.

"Is there a problem?" asked a female voice.

He followed the hand to the voice. It belonged to a Chian woman. Her slanted eyelids stared into his blue eyes.

"Yes,"pointing to the mug, "this liquor's watered."

Her chin shifted back and forth.

"Well, sir we have tampered with the liquor cause the God's People temperance have shut down our competition."

"Maybe true, but men died cause of weak liquor."

Turning to the shaking bartender, she ordered, "Get the bottle on the bottom," turning towards him, "behind the pitchers."

The hidden bottle appeared after clanging of glass. She removed the cork and poured some of the liquid into his mug. Swallowing the liquid, he moved his tongue around his mouth.

"Good," taking the bottle and searching for a table.

"Welcome sir, anything else?"

"Yes, steak and eggs."

"Heard the gentleman," to a saloon girl, "steak and eggs."

"Didn't catch your name?" she asked towards his back.

"Didn't throw it towards you," he answered walking away.

He sat at the table. With his back to the poker players, his ears listened to their conversation.

"Are you sure she's here?"

"Yes," answered the man sitting behind Rath.

"Why must we speed up our plans if we know where she is?"

"Because gunslingers are arriving to take her to Terra and the rebellion will be harder to sell to the people."

"But..."

"But nothing. Mort expressed that if she become a gunslinger then her nobility will be useless."

"What about the gunslingers coming?"

"What about them?"

"The stories?"

"About moving faster then wind. Appearing from nowhere. Having never to reload during a shoot out."

"Yes."

"Exactly stories. People with small minds trying to cling on supernatural to hide their miserable existence."

"But..."

"But nothing. End of discussion. Shuffle the cards."

His ears detected shuffling of cards. His meal didn't arrive, but he heard enough. The deck rested on the table. They could be dealt, but Rath picked up the deck. He dealt a card to the twisted mustached man, who sat behind him.

He turned over the card. It revealed a nine of hearts.

Lacing the deck on the table, Rath revealed a ten of spades.

"What was the bet?" asked the mustached man.

"You never seen a gunslinger," Rath answered.

The man's eyes widen. The chair on Rath's right squeaked backwards as he grabbed the deck. Back of his right hand slammed into the nose of the man on his right.

Squeezing the deck, sent the cards flying into mustached man's face. Rath tipped over the table into the other two players.

Blood streamed from the backhanded man's nose. His fist swung and hit empty air. Rath's right fist slammed into the man's ribs. Rath stepped out of the way as the other two players slammed into the side clinging man. The momentum sent them through the glass window and into the dirt street.

Turning, Rath's left arm blocked a chair. It shattered. Mustached man looked bewildered as Rath's fist slammed against his stomach. Doubled over, Rath tugged at his coat. Placing in him front of the door, Rath's foot rammed against his ass and sent him out the door.

Stepping through the swinging doors, a crowd gathered. The mustached tried for his shooter, but Rath's boot to his face ended this fight.

Digging out their wallets, a familiar harsh voice asked him, "Rath, what's this about?"

Exactly it wasn't asking more like shouting.

"They didn't like the hand that was dealt," he answered heading back towards the Chian woman.

Handing her the wallets, he said, "There's for the damage they caused."

Before she answered, a voice bellowed, "What's ...going...on...here?"

More like puffing then bellowing. A pot-bellied man, sucking in air, stood from the crowd. A lawman star pinned to his chest.

"Who started this?" he asked catching his breath.

"This roughening," stammered the bartender.

The Chian woman didn't say a thing. She just stared at the cash in her hands.

"Miss Gensha, did he do this?" asked the lawman.

"No and I'll need to find a new bartender to worry about what men fight about," she said lifting up the hem of her skirt and entering her saloon.

Ignoring the stunned ex-bartender, the lawman turned his attention to Rath.

"Well, boy," said the lawman lifting his pants.

His huge stomach prevented further lifting.

"Who do think you are?" asked the sweating lawman.

"He's my apprentice," answered Cob.

The lawman stared down at the dwarfish Cob.

"Who the hell are you?" asked the lawman.

"Cob of Terra."

"Terra?" gulped the shrinking lawman.

"Terra," seemed to filter through the crowd.

"What's... what are gunslingers doing in Aquaiel?"

"To retrieve an apprentice," suddenly giant Cob answered.

Swallowing, the lawman tried to stay calm.

"Is that all your business here?"

"Correct."

"Will then," licking his lips, "Let me not delay me."

Turning to the crowd, "There's nothing to see here."

The crowd broken away and grew smaller. Finally the crowd disappeared as Cob stared at Rath. Rath headed towards his horse when the lawman said, "Finish getting your apprentice and leave. We don't like troublemakers in Aquaiel."

Cob lifted himself onto his saddle.

"Don't worry. The illusion of you being in charge will be preserved."

His horse left the gapping lawman behind.

Rath and Cort followed waiting for the lecture to begin.

"Rath, what was that about?" asked Cort.

"Cort," interrupted Cob, "don't be a dead cat."

Cort rode disheartened as metal being pounded filled the air.

Stopping in of the correl, Cob yelled, "Blacksmith!"

Tall black man stood in the doorway with a huge hammer in his hand. Hammering of metal continued.

"What's your business?" he asked.

Removing a folded piece of paper from his right breast pocket, Cob handed it to the blacksmith.

Sliding the hammer into a loop on his belt, the blacksmith broke the seal on the paper. His dark eyes read the lines on the paper. His eyes went from the paper to the three gunslingers on horseback.

Turning his head towards the door, he yelled, "April! Come here!"

Hammering stopped.

She stepped into the doorway. Rath leaned his arm against the saddle horn. Out of the corner of his eye, Cort's jaw dropped. Black dust covered her. A leather apron covered her front. Her black tied in a bun. Blue denim jeans were recognizable. One would think she was topless, but a white corset could be seen. She walked towards the blacksmith. She took the letter. Cob lifted his hat towards when her black eyes focused on him. Cort recovered from his shock to follow Cob's example. Rath just leaned on his saddle horn studying the new apprentice.

"You're a gunslinger?" she asked towards Cob.

"Master gunslinger, Miss Rivera," Cob said, "and my two apprentices," pointing with his hat, "Cob, and," noticed Rath didn't remove his hat.

His horse slightly galloped beside Rath's horse.

"Remove your hat," whispered Cob.

"Why?"

"Cause you're in the presence of a lady."

"What lady?"

"Miss Rivera."

"She's no lady."

Turning his horse to face April, he said, "And this is Rath. He needs a lesson in manners."

Rath' s vision got blocked as Cob's back handed him off his horse. The ground stopped his fall. Air got pushed from his lungs. For awhile blackness covered his field of vision. It cleared up and saw Cob leaning over him on his horse.

"Well?" asked Cob.

"Well, what?" answered Rath.

"Well you owe Miss Rivera an apology."

"I owe her an apology? The only one who's owed an apology, is me.'

"You do?"

"From you, dwarf."

Humor disappear from Cob's face.

"The only small man here, is you."

Getting up, dusted himself off.

Rath said, "Maybe you should meet the ground."

Suddenly he lifted up his right leg. Quickly pulled a knife from his boot and sliced through Cob's saddle strap. Grabbing Cob's right arm and pulled him off.

Cob hit the ground with a thud. Dust jumped in the air and settled around and on Cob.

Cursing in a language Rath couldn't recall.

Getting up, Cob growled, "When did you start carrying a boot knife?"

"Russell gave a lesson in stealth."

Cob and Rath stared each other down. Tension built up. Waiting for a movement to start sending lead through the air.

"Gentlemen, it doesn't look right if master and apprentice are killed in front of a new apprentice," interrupted Cort thumbing towards April.

"Don't think is over yet, apprentice," threaten Cob.

"I'll be waiting," answered Rath.

Cob turned and walked towards the blacksmith and April.

"Miss Rivera, as you read from the letter, we're from Terra and you can choose to return with us," Cob said holding his right hand out.

Gripping his hand, she said, "When can we be off?"

"How fast can you pack a horse?"

"I don't owe a horse."

"Really," Cob remarked staring at the blacksmith

"She does enough to pay for food and board," answered the blacksmith.

"Huh," Cob answered turning towards Cort and Rath.

"Both of you take Miss Rivera to the horse trader and get her a horse."

Before they could, Cob added, "And Rath sell your saddle to pay for the horse."

"Why? There's money in your saddle bags."

"That's to pay for the repairs to my saddle," Cob remarked, "Consider it, redemption."

"More like punishment," Rath said leaving with angry in his eyes.

Walking for awhile, he stop and leaned his back against a wooden wall. He wrapped the reigns around his hand then unwrapped the reigns.

"Bastard," he thought ramming the back of his head into the wall.

"Calm don't give into angry. It clouds the mind," words of Chiba rang in his mind.

Master Chiba saying that after knock his ass to the floor.

"After the third bell, he was still standing," a familiar voice said.

"How badly was he?" asked the female voice.

It was Cort telling April how he, Rath, got the saddle.

The saddle sat on this bench with light from a hole in the roof. It added to the power of having this saddle had on him. But he had no money. Cob wouldn't give him the money. Luckily a fair was in town. Wondering through the crowd, he come across this exposition.

The barker boasted the shirtless man in the ring was the toughness fighter of the Territories. The money the barker offered could pay for the saddle.

Rath took the challenge. All he had to do was still be standing after the third round. The ground became his spot to land on. Rath couldn't hurt this guy. He kept eating dirt. Finally end of the third round after the third ringing of the bell, Rath stood up and won the money. The saddle was few things he was proud of. He earned it. Months went by before he could talk, but he earned that saddle.

"After he healed up, he brought the saddle," Cort said.

"Understand why he doesn't what to sell that saddle. He really loves it."

"Not really. More like he learned something that day."

"What did he learn?"

"That to be the best, he have to learn from the best. See after that fight, he studied under Master Chiba to improve his fighting."

"Speaking of the devil."

"Depends on what's said about the devil," greeted Rath staring at April.

The black dust was wash from her tan skin. Her black hair was in a ponytail instead of a bun. A white shirt was tucked into her dirty jeans.

"Let's go and get that horse," Rath said.

"You don't have to sell that saddle for me," said April.

"Yes, I do have to sell it," standing beside her, "Now lead us to the horse trader."

"Before we do go, what did you mean by that I'm not a lady?" she asked staring at him.

"Simply, gunslingers are not ladies," he remarked.

"A woman shouldn't be a gunslinger," she commented.

"No, ladies are not gunslingers," Rath restated, "Didn't say anything about a woman, just ladies."

"What's wrong with ladies?" she asked.

"They're petite. Gunslingers are not. Don't let Cob keep insulting you or you don't deserve your shooters."

"So you're giving me a complement," she remarked.

"Believe she's catching on to you," remarked Cort.

"Might be hope for her yet," Rath said walking.

As they walked, a light conservation begin between them. Cort telling an adventure they had. Rath correct parts of the tale, but Cort did all the talking.

Loud neighing alerted to them that the horse trader was coming nearer.

April walked towards a building surrounded by corrals of horses.

Removing a clanger from the metal triangle hanging from the overhang.

"Let me do the talking," she said.

Rapidly she swung the clanger inside the triangle. The banging brought a tall beard man from inside the building. Not a full bread, it was trimmed. Covering his chin and upper lip. The sun seemed to shine off him.

Sniffing the air, Rath thought, "Neat's foot oil."

"Yes, April," said the glistening man.

"Tom, we're here to trade for a horse," she said.

"With what?" he asked.

"This saddle," she said thumbing towards Rath's horse.

"Looks used."

"It's in better condition then what you sell."

"What's your meaning?"

"Every time someone buys a saddle from you," she answered, "Paul, has to repair it."

Putting a toothpick in his mouth, Tom said, "Fine, properly have a worthy trade for it."

Following Tom, Rath noticed he didn't walk in the dirt, but stayed on the grass.

"Here's the worthy trade," he proclaimed stopping.

They stared at a brown spotted and white horse.

Rath tethered his horse to a fence railing. Entering the pen, he studied the brown and white horse. After rubbing neck, his right hand pushed down on its back. It neighed and moved in pain. After calming it down, he studied the front hoof. Finally he checked the teeth.

"This horse wouldn't make it to Terre," Rath proclaimed.

What's makes you the horse expert?" April commented, "I'm riding it."

"It's my saddle," Rath commented, "Don't trust me. Then check for yourself."

She did. Repeating the same the action like Rath.

"Well?" asked Rath.

"You're right," she answered.

"This got to be a worthy trade," Rath said staring at Tom.

"Then, boy," remarked Tom, "What would be a worthy trade?"

Rath's eyelids narrowed like he was trying to burn a hole through Tom. Ruckus from a holding pen broke the silence. They followed Tom to the pen where a man held a rope. The rope was around the neck of a black horse. It was fighting trying to break the rope grip. Another man had difficulty getting a saddle on this powerful beast.

The man with the saddle put it up and got a whip.

"This beast needs to know whose master," said the man snapping the whip.

Before it could strike against the black skin of the disagreeing horse, it got cut from the handle and a loud boom followed. The man stared from the ruin whip to the drawn shooter of Rath.

"What do you think you're doing, boy?"throwing down the cut whip handle.

"Stopping you from ruining a magnificent animal," answered Rath reholstering his shooter.

"Here we go again," Cob whispered.

It was more for April's benefit than the horse traders.

"Isn't that the animal sold to Dogberry, Philip asked Tom.

"Yes, he returned it after it threw off his wife's mother," answered Philip.

"Surprised it wasn't put out to pasture," commented Tom.

"More like the wife wanted it returned," said the man recoiling the rope.

"So we tried saddling this brute, but being stubborn is all it knows," remarked Philip.

"So you needed a whip," commented Rath.

"Correct, until you ruined it, boy," returned Philip.

Rath's eyelids narrowed again this time at the whipless man.

"Of course, I did. That beast is too magnificent to be whipped," Rath said.

"You're an expert judge of horses?" Philip said.

"Correct and it's worthy of being traded for my saddle."

April's eyes widen and Cort just crossed his arms to Rath's comment.

"What's makes you say that?" asked Tom.

"Asked what's a worthy trade and answer was given," remarked Rath.

"That's your opinion, boy," said Tom.

Again Rath's eyelids narrowed.

"Tom, let's talk," April said motioning to him.

Watching the palaver between April and Tom, Cort asked, "Did she push her breasts up?"

"Yes, she did," Rath answered.

When it ended, she walked towards them.

"A bet between me and Tom has been made," she said.

"What are the terms?" Rath asked.

"If you can put a saddle on that black horse and stay on it, then the horse is yours and you keep your saddle," she said.

"And if I lose?" asked Rath.

"If you lose, hope your neck gets broke doing your fall because I'll break it before we get to Terra," she said.

Rath felt like laughing, but suppressed it. He removed the saddle from the gray horse then placed it on the top railing. After removing the harness, Rath slid a rope around the neck of the gray horse. Climbing up the railings, he saw the two camps watching him, Cort and April on one side together and Tom and his two workers on the another side.

Taking the saddle, Rath laid it on it's side against the ground. He removed the lasso from the saddle. Enlarging the loop, stared at the black horse. His wrist twisting allowing the noose to circle over his head. Letting it go. It landed on the dirt ground not around the neck of the horse.

"He missed," Came from Tom, "Pay up."

"Deal was saddle on the horse and staying on," answered April, "Missing the neck with a lasso, doesn't count."

Recoiling of rope, Rath refocused his attention on the horse. Widening the noose, retwisting his wrist to allow the noose to cut the air.

The object of the noose's purpose tried escaping, but the fence blocked its attempt. Letting go, it sailed through the air. Landing around the black neck, Rath tightened the slack. It reared up its front legs.

Rath's boots dragged against the ground as the struggle began. This animal's strength put strained on Rath's arm strength. If the struggle with this beast didn't gain his full attention, a smile of respect was earned. The animal finally calmed down, but Rath knew alertness was still in order. Chance for this animal to escape would put his effect in vain and his neck to be broke.

Slowly pulling his four-legged opponent towards him. Each pull met resistance. Hoofs reluctantly carried the beast towards the boots pulling the rope. Inches separated them.

Gloved right hand patted the black strong neck. A red batch of fur running along its muzzle, reminded Rath of scar.

Slowly he directed the horse towards the laying saddle. Slowly forced the horse to lay near the saddle. Carefully he strapped the saddle on the laying horse. Slipping the harness on, he removed the rope as he tightly gripped the reigns.

Finally he allowed the horse to rise up. It kicked, bucked, trying to remove him from its back. During these bucking, a shot rung up.

"Rath, bet's won," allowed him to go from the horse to a railing.

Rath noticed Cort's shooter pointing at Tom, holding his hand, and his ranch hands.

"Bet spleather?" Rath asked.

"With this," answered April.

In her palm, a small metal ball existed. Pointing the small device away from her, she pulled the clip. A loud pop filled the air.

April clinched her fists in anger. She walked over towards Tom and punched him.

"Knew you couldn't be trusted," April said.

"Take the nag," Tom said rubbing his chin, "lest the pain in the neck will be gone."

Opening the gate, Rath grabbed the reigns and led the horse out. It slightly reared up.

"You left fight in that horse," April said grabbing the rope of the gray horse.

"Little fight good for what it will be needed to do," Rath answered.

Staring at Cort aiming at Tom's head, he asked, "Should he reholster that."

"Sure," April answered, "Tom's not stupid. His head will be blow off before his help could act."

After reholstering his gun, Cort slowly walked backwards towards Rath and April.

"Time to return," said Cort, "Cob's patience will be stretched only so far."

Rath agreed.

"You, guys hungry?" asked April.

"It has been awhile," Rath said.

"Good. Know this saloon ran by a Chian woman that serve eggs and steaks."

Rath and Cort looked at each other.

"Let's see Cob, first," answered Cort.

Suddenly April removed Rath's shooter. The bullet entered Philip's hand. The gun fell from his hand.

"Can't be trusted," April said, "Now remove ever weapon you got," pushing back the hammer.

"Cob had good reasons to get her," remarked Cort.

Rath nodded in agreement.

Cort got an empty feed bag. As April kept the barrel aimed at the cheaters, Rath put the weapons in the bag.

Tapping the bag, Cort asked, "What to do with them?"

"Ask her," Rath answered nodding towards April, "She seems to be fill of ideas."

"They can be retrieved from the lawman," April said returning Rath's shooter.

It was rehosltered as they walked away with no further trouble.

"What about your old horse?" asked April holding the rope tied to the gray horse.

"It's got some good years left," remarked Rath, "You can have it."

"Thanks," she said, "What about a bridle?"

"Save Tom from further disgrace," Rath remarked making a bridle from his lasso, "Use this until you can get one at Terra."

Taking the rope bridle, she slipped on the gray horse.

That memory lingered as his feet labored through the sand.


	4. Dust Circling a wagon Circle

Dust Circling a Wagon Circle

"Cob, can be a pain," stated Cort.

"True, but it won't due us any good if he beats us back," Rath remarked.

"Then lets take the mono if time's precious," April mentioned.

"Monos don't run near Terra. The nearest one will add time instead of subtracting it," answered Cort.

This echoed through his sun backed skull.

"His urgent business in Pandorian," scoffed Cort.

"Return to Terra or else," mocked Rath.

"Or else what?" asked April.

"No food for months," answered Cob.

"Increased training until our knees collapses," commented Rath.

"Or both!" shouted Cort and Rath at the same time.

"Stop laughing and increase the pace," she said passing them in full gallop.

They urged their steeds to catch up with her.

Suddenly she stopped, allowing them to catch up with her.

Seeing the direction she was staring at, Cort asked, "What?"

Pointing towards a dust cloud, she answered, "That."

Rath removed a spyglass from his saddle bags.

Putting it to his right eye, he answered, "A dust cloud surrounding a wagon circle."

"Well, check on the wagon train or continue on to Terra," Cort commented.

"Correct," Rath remarked returning the spyglass to the saddle bag.

Looking at both Cort and Rath, April snorted, "Men. Time for a woman to go where men can't decide to go," spurring her horse towards the dust cloud.

"No dull time riding with her," Cort stated.

Rath agreed as they chased after April.

The dust cloud appeared before them. April reached for her shooter then reacted realizing they hasn't been assigned to her yet. The dust swallowed her. They jumped over the wagon tongue. Through the dust, they witnessed someone pulling April down from her horse and pointing a shooter at her face. Quickly sliding off the saddle, drawing their shooter and aimed at April's holder.

"Pull the trigger and you're dead," said Rath.

The gunman looked and asked, "She's with you, not the savages?"

"Correct."

"Let's stop gapping and help us."

"Of course, we will," stated Rath.

The gunman disappeared into the dust.

"Going where men can't decide to go without a shooter," Rath said to April as bullets sailed through the air.

"Well, could use one now," she retorted.

Taking a shooter from a corpse, Rath handed it to her.

"Now go protect the woman and children," he ordered, "Since you'll be the last line of defense."

As Rath and Cort used the dead fallen defenders as a barricade, she disappeared into the mist of dust.

"She's not happy," mentioned Cort.

"Why not. Chance to play with the boys instead staying away from the action," Rath said pulling the trigger, "Could anger her?"

"Could?" aiming, "That flash of anger in her eyes were the same when Tom got caught," releasing bullets.

"Guess steaming," reloading, "the only option left to her."

"Who'll bed her first, is a good option?"

"Middle of bullets flying passing his ears and wants to know who she rides first?"

"Admit, she's easy on the eyes," sending more bullets into the dust, "Yes?"

"Easier then the women of Knook you bed with?"

"Look at? Yes. To bed with? April's more of an interesting challenge."

"Challenge of waking with a knife in ones throat."

"Just blood pumping when thinking about it."

"Thinking about surviving this gets the blood pumping."

"What about after?"

"Worry about that when we get there," Rath said getting up.

"Where you going?'

"To find the wagon master."

He noticed runners moving from wagon tongue to wagon tongue. They ran from openings in the defenses. He followed them. They seemed to come and leave from one man, whose voice raised above the gunfire.

"Lines getting thin, two per opening. Savages must not break through."

"Savages attack mindlessly. Strategy's being moved against you," Rath commented.

The back turned and a man's face appeared in Rath's view.

"One of the three that broke through our defenses?" he asked.

"Correct, and you're the wagon master."

"Correct, and how do you know they're using strategy?"

"First, how did this begin?"

"Sent out a hunting party, then they were chased, and here's the end result."

Rath nodded in acknowledgment.

"Now answer, how do you know strategy being used?"

"Simply we got through. Five or ten warriors dragging brush and just picking your men off."

"Got lucky. Could be more."

"If there's more, they would have already stormed through."

Suddenly the thundering faded away along with gunfire.

"Must check the wounded and the dead, sai," said the wagon master.

"Do that and I'll find my companions," Rath returned.

Rath found Cort along with their horses, expect April's horse wasn't there.

Before Rath asked, Cort answered, "Guess they got what they wanted."

"What caused them to chase a hunting party, surround a wagon train, and leave when victory was at hand?" Rath wondered.

"Doesn't matter lets get April and ride for Terra," Cort remarked.

Cort stared at Rath's face. He knew a thought was brewing behind Rath's blue eyes. Rath's eyes shifted.

"Fine, lets round up April and ride to Terra."

Searching, they found the wagon master among a crowd of frantic women. April couldn't be seen in the crowd.

"Well wagon master, how's your dead and wounded?" asked Rath.

"Dead's not as great as we thought and the wounded's higher, but they'll heal."

"What troubles you?"

"Among the dead, our trail finder can be found," answered the wagon master, "but you're not here to hear my worries. What do you want?"

"To get our woman companion and leave."

"Describe her."

With right palm open and facing the ground, Rath held it to his shoulder and said, "She comes to my shoulder. Got black long hair, hazel eyes and brown skin."

A murmur filtered from the crowd.

The wagon master pointed towards an older woman with a scarf tied around her head, "This woman was explaining about a woman, fitting that description," gently pulling her forward, "Continue your tale."

"This woman, you described, knocked this savage off his horse. He got up and they stared at each other. They spoke in a strange tongue to each other. She got a gray horse and left with him. Suddenly the shooting stopped."

In Rath's ear, Cort whispered, "Would she do something like that?"

Instead of answering, Rath asked, "Wagon master, what's your destination?"

"Lud."

"Cort, what's the closer town near here if headed towards Lud?" asked Rath.

"Mid."

"Cort lead this train to Mid," getting on his horse.

"What are you going to do?" Cort asked staring up at Rath.

"Going after April," pointing his horse towards an opening between two wagons.

"You'll need help."

"They need more help," motioning towards the crowd with his head, "then me."

"After I get to Mid and you don't?"

"Tell Cob not to worry about sending me to Hell," then spurred his horse.


	5. Rescuer Caught

Rescuer Caught

Three days past since Rath left Cort to lead the wagon train. It seemed his prey was getting smarter. The trail disappeared. He wandered until a river broke the horizon. Downriver or upriver. Upriver seemed more likely to take. Hoofs splashed as he went a cross stream. Continuing upriver, his eyes scanned the banks. Stopping when a figure caught his attention.

Removing his shooter, his horse crept closer. A shirtless figure in a skinned loincloth laid on his stomach drinking water with a cupped hand. Cocking back the hammer sent the red skinned man looking up. Tried grabbing for a spear, but a bullet from Rath's shooter froze him.

Rath stared at the man before him. Long black braided hair touched his waist. Leather boots covered his feet. The loincloth came to his knees.

"What tribe are you from?" Rath asked.

No answer came.

This was a sandwalker and the wagon train was attacked by sandwalkers. Sandwalkers were small tribes that traveled the lands. They stayed out sight. Staying out of settlers way as long they were left alone. Those that attacked the wagon train had a reason.

Taking the sandwalker prisoner was a gamble Rath was willing to take. Motioning with the barrel to turn around, Rath got off his horse.

Tying the hands behind his prisoner, "Led me to your tribe," tightening the rope," and don't act deaf," putting the noose around the red neck.

Getting on his horse, he said, "Lead the way," wrapping the rope around the saddle horn.

The prisoner led Rath further upstream. Where the source of the water ended, a rocky trail began. Rath slid off the saddle. Leaving the rope around the saddle horn, he took the reigns as the prisoner continued forward. The trail started going uphill.

Over the slope, a huge mound with a flat top dominated the horizon. It stood out among the scrubs and sand. It grew as they continued. It wasn't steep as a mountain or rocky. Scrubs and desert grass covered the mound. Too big to be a hill, but not right size to be conceded a mountain.

At the basin, Rath tied his guide's feet. Walking up the mound proved to be difficult cause of the loose ground. No one could just run up it.

Getting to the top, he noticed it wasn't solid. The rim was a mile wide, but beyond that. Nothing, just air. Walking towards the inner edge of the rim, removing his hat and laying on his stomach, peered over the edge. Black dots scattered over the rock wall.

Using his spyglass, watched daily actives being done. A lone stone dwelling surrounded by skin tents caught his curiosity. Moving the spyglass up to the black dots on the rock wall, revealed they were cave opening. In them, were watchers and they watching him.

Suddenly removing the spyglass from his eye. Not looking, his hand went to retrieve his hat instead found a foot. Movement out the corner of his eye caused him to roll left. A spearhead struck the empty spot where he laid. Spinning, Rath's foot hit the back of the spear carrier's knee causing him to strike the ground. Getting up Rath put his hat as the warrior stood ready to attack.

Rath drew his shooter, but the spear wielder's reaction speed allowed his spear tip to knock the shooters out of Rath's hands. The spearhead came at Rath's stomach. He dodged it and then grabbed the shaft.

The end of the spear swing at his side, but his free hand blocked it. Now the spear separated them. He stared into the red face. They tried overpowering each other, but a stalemate developed. The struggle sketched across their face. Muscles ached, but backing down wasn't an option. Suddenly he was swung to the left, but his grip stayed.

Quickly Rath went backwards. His momentum carried the warrior over. His boots pressed against the red muscled stomach, adding to the momentum. The man landed on his feet, but had no support for his heels. Losing footing he fell over the edge.

Quickly getting up, retrieved one of two shooters.

Reholstering his only shooter, he concluded, "Must've went over the edge."

Running down the slope, he added, "Cob can scolded me later."

As his horse appeared in the horizon, the ground disappeared beneath his running feet. Darkness engulfed as his head whiplashed backward.

Bright light quickly blinded him before his momentum stopped. His vison cleared up. Rope squares surrounded him. He landed in a net. Moving his head around. Noticed spears pointed at him.

"Oh shock," he snorted.

Rath laid on the rim. Ropes binding his wrists and ankles to metal loops fastened into the rock. Everything was taken except his pants and boots. As the day went by, his skin turned red.

A man, wearing a feather head dress, peered over him. He bent closer to Rath's face. His weathered face blocked out the sun.

"You're part of the wagon train," he said.

No answer.

"You're horse gave you away. It proved difficult to move. You must be a real warrior."

He motioned towards the crowd.

"You might remember this face."

The warrior, who went over the rim, appeared.

"We keep nets around the rim. He landed in one. Plus," revealing both of Rath's shooters from an animal skin, "one of these almost landed on a child."

Rath continued staring at the man.

"The tan skinned woman from the wagon train, what's her to you?"

No response.

"Tight tongue. Maybe some flame may loosen that tongue."

Branches and moss were placed around Rath's right hand. A torch lit the wooden pile.

Rath's jaw tighten as pain raced through his arm. Wooden increased the pain. More flue for the fire was added. The answers, that were being sought, didn't came.

"The flame didn't loosen your tongue. Let's stretch your limits," the head dressed man said.

Instead of being tied against rock, now he was hanging like meat in an ice room. The rope cut into Rath's burnt wrist as a stone stretched his legs. His wrists hung from a wooden beam supported by stone columns. Rope cut into his bare ankles. Breathing became difficult as time went by.

Couscous remained so escape was still possible. Plans haven't raced through his mind as pain continued.

His eyelids were heavy. When sleep tried claiming him, a spear would hit his ribs. When that didn't work, water was thrown at him.

Time tracking became lost on his as fatigue inched over him. Before passing out, he got a glimpse of figure in a skin dress stared at him.

Something cold pressed against his forehead. His eyelids fluttered opened. His vision was blurred. A face came in focus. Black hair, tan skin, and hazel eyes of April filled his view. He sat up.

Placing her hands on his chest, she said, "Rest, your answers will come. Your burnt hand needs time to heal. Fever have wrecked your body. Rest. Time for palaver will come," her hands pushed him back on the cot.


	6. Forgotten Past Revealed

Forgotten Past Revealed

Darkness blocked his view of Allison. Weightlessness surrounded him. His eyelids were shut. Suddenly he tensed up as cold stone pressed against his skin. Feet moving caused his eyelids to open. Lifting and turning his head revealed his naked body strapped to a stone table.

Stepping from the darkness, a bearded man in a green robe said, "Enjoyed your trip, Rath."

Acting an aware of the confusion sketched on the youth's face, he continued, "Sorry for tearing you away from your lady love, but sacrifices have to be made."

No answer from his young captive didn't make him miss a beat.

"Sacrifices made to stop a darkness, trying to engulf existence, doesn't know love just emptiness, Rath."

Strapping a harness to prevent the captive's head from moving, the bearded man commented, "Your education's about to begin, Rath."

"Name's not Rath."

"It well be," motioning towards the darkness, "now."

Pain shot into his head.

"Edwards," Rath said sitting up.

His dream came back, after being pulled away from the strange girl and then St. Edwards strapping a harness to his head. His ears detected movement. Green light cut through the darkness. His eyes adjusted to the light.

A naked April stood looking at a stone lantern hanging from the ceiling. She sat on his cot. Placing her right hand on his sweat soaked forehead then his left cheek, she asked, "Who's Edwards?"

"The Dinh judge of Terra," Rath answered, "April?"

"Yes."

"Could you cover yourself?"

"Don't like looking at my bare breasts."

"Only know you for a few days."

"You're not wearing any clothes."

"True, but this blanket covers me. Asking if you can cover yourself."

Getting up and putting on a poncho, she commented, "So women can be gunslingers?"

"It was ladies, not women, who shouldn't be. Women can be gunslingers if they can survive the training."

Sitting cross legged, April asked, "What were you dreaming?"

"Why?"

"Cause this tribe believes dreams tells ones future."

"So my future's to be torn away from lady love by St. Edwards."

Slightly laughing, she asked, "If that is what your dreams are telling you? Were these dreams recent?"

"Appearing and disappearing for most of my life."

"Do your parents has an explanation?"

"Died when I was young."

Before she could apologize, he added, "Can't remember them. Earliest memory being with Edwards as Cob met us."

"What's your story?" he asked.

Staring at the stone floor, her lips curled up.

Letting out a long breath, she said, "Time to tell my tale," Rath nodded in agreement, "I'm the surviving member of the royal house of Adroit. This dwelling were warriors for my family. The Dinh of this tribe left me with Valdris, a gunslinger."

"Valdris," shifting his eyes in recognition.

"The name familiar to you?" she asked.

"He was a master gunslinger."

"Was?"

"Died. Explains why Cob came? Sight unseen and untested. Cob respect Valdris's opinion."

"So I'm a gunslinger based on one's opinion?"

"No, you're still need to be tested. Cob's not into giving free rides. You're going to earn your shooters."

"That eases my high opinion of myself."

"So what did Valdris do with you?"

"Left me with the blacksmith's family."

"So all you did was wait."

"Correct. You didn't ask if I can get us out of here."

"If that's true, then why have my shooters not been returned to me?"

"Not as empty headed as I thought."

"So you've got limits, where to go next needs to been answered."

"Dinh will talk to you about the wagon train."

"Will then next light a audience the dinh."

Standing up, she bent over and kissed his forehead.

"Yes, an audience and he will explain."

Before he asked about the kiss, she covered the green light.

"Now go to sleep," she said and he did.

Scent of food cooking opened his eyelids. An animal skin dressed back of a sitting April grabbed his attention. She was wearing the same poncho that she had on last night. It barely came to her thighs. Slightly turning his head saw her stirring a wooden spoon in a small metal pot.

"Hungry?"

"Yes."

Spooning a white substance in a clay bowel, she handed it to him. She retrieved a brown jar and stirred a dark clear substance. From a wooden spool, she poured the ooze into his bowel. He stirred the substance with his two fingers.

"Molasses with maizton make a good dawn meal," she remarked.

Shaking his head in agreement, cupped the sweetened maizton and scooped it into his mouth.

Back of her right hand felt his forehead.

Feeling his cheeks, she commented, "Your fever gone down," getting up and went over to a blanket on the floor.

Sliding the blanket over, revealing three boards. Removing a plank, her hand entered the hole. She pulled out clothes and laid them beside her.

"Those are my clothes," he said.

"Correct."

"And they were there the whole time?"

"Correct."

"Where are my shooters?"

"With the dinh," returning the blankets over the boards, "Besides didn't want you to go and do something harsh," placing his clothes on the cot.

Sitting cross-legged across from him, she added, "Didn't expect you to came after me."

"Couldn't leave a fellow gunslinger behind."

"Is there any other reasons why you're here?"

"Should I have another reason?"

"No. Where's Cort?"

"He had to lead the wagon train to Mid."

"And if you don't return?"

"Go to Terra and return with more gunslingers."

"The blood shed that I tried to prevent will actually happen."

"May, or may not, but first when does the palaver with the dinh begin?"

"As soon as you get dressed."

With his finger pointed towards the ground, motioned her to turn around.

"Already seen my bare breasts and you're getting shy."

He continued motioning.

"Seen you without clothes, somebody had to undress you."

Turning around, "Your mind better be eased. For a gunslinger, you're unnerved around women."

"No, just little more respectable."

"Respectable gunslinger? Contradiction in words."

"You can turn around now."

She did and saw him in his clothes. Only thing was his hat, shooters and duster.

"Are you ready?" he asked.

"No, think they'll let me go outside wearing just this poncho," closer to his face and staring into his blue eyes, "and don't mind if you watch me dress."

"Are you flirting with me?" watching her hazel eyes.

"Like last night, not so empty headed."

"Gunslingers can't be lovers."

"Why?"

"A woman gunslinger once went on a killing spree cause her lover got shot in the back."

"Do you like to gamble?"

"When the odds are in me favor?"

"When they are not?"

"Depends on the odds."

"If I asked Cob to bed with me, would he do it?"

"In a heart beat."

"So you're different?"

"Being a gunslinger hard on relationships. A special woman could make me rethink about gambling."

"Then turn around."

He did.

"I'm done."

Turning around, he saw a skin dress that showed off her body.

"Let's go," she said pushing animal skinned door away.

He followed her out. After his eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness, noticed the two warriors standing beside the tent's doorway. As they walked, two warriors covered the rear, but April led without guards in the front.

Rath's eyes scanned the scenery. Majority of the tribe went about their daily actives. Children pointed to this small crowd. Adults whispered to this children and took them away.

"Properly told them to ignore the naked king," thought Rath.

They walked towards a stone temple. The stone temple grew as they got closer. It looked bigger up close then from the rim. They walked up the stone stairs. People passed them with room to spare. Two guards stood beside the stone doorway. Entering, Rath was surprised how clean the inside was. Dust didn't hang in the air. On a stone throne sat a man in a feather head dress. Closer he got, a realization hit him. This was the man who questioned him on the rim.

Bowing her head, "Dinh, of this desert dwelling, the gunslinger's ready to open his ears to your words."

"His health regained under your care."

Bowing her head in agreement.

"Opening his ears may be possible, however what his does with his tongue, that flame couldn't loosen, are hazing."

"Give him a chance. His eyes show a wise warrior trying to make the right decision."

Rath came forward after being motioned to.

"Listen, don't make judgements until the end," whispered April.

Bowing his head, Rath heard the dinh chuckling.

"Humbling cracked your stone resolve where the flame couldn't," remarked the dinh.

Rath just stared as the dinh continued, "A grave of a high dinh was defiled. We chased the defilers to the wagon train. We were shot at first, simply returned fire."

"What was taken?"

"Necklace with blue green beads along with the skull of the pervious owner."

"How many were responsible?"

"Five. Five guilty responsible for death of many."

"As a gunslinger, I'll bring the five to justice and return your property."

"Unacceptable!" turned Rath's attention to a scar warrior.

He dwarfed the other warriors. His hands looked like one could wrap around a man's throat. His hazel eyes seemed to burn through Rath. Rath returned the same hole burning stare as his instincts warned him of the danger radiating from this man.

"How, Shan, does this unacceptability reach your sight?" asked Dinh.

"Tribal business shouldn't be interfered by outsiders," answered Shan.

"For this tribal business to be settled with less blood flowing, then I have to interfere."

"Why do you have to interfere?" asked Dinh.

"The wagon lost their trailfinder. My fellow gunslinger happens to be leading them. If your warriors attack and I don't return, instead of few settlers to deal with, you'll have an army of gunslingers to deal with. They never worry about tribal business of dead people."

Sketched acrossed Dinh's face were the words of Rath's sinking in.

"Dinh," the warrior said, "the outsider needs to be isolated from tribal business."

"So the only problem here, that I'm an outsider, so how do I become a tribal member."


	7. Over a Pit without a Peach

Over a Pit Without a Peach

Laying across a gorge was a log. One looking down couldn't see the bottom of the gorge. The center of the log was marked by a line carved into the log. On the each side of the line was a knife.

Rath, stripped waist down, stood on one side of gorge. On the other side of the gorge, was Shan standing without a shirt. Walking towards each other, they stopped at the line. A bracelet of brass was locked on their left wrists. A log was lowered until it rested on the craved line. One of the shaman walked across the log until he was between Rath and Shan. He held a leather strap with brass hooks on the ends. He fastened the hooks to the ring.

"When you hear the gong, grab your knife and fight. Remember knock your opponent off the log or make him submit to win. There are the embedded wooden spikes that can't be seen below you. This fight is to the death," he said bowing towards the warriors.

After the shaman walked away, the log was raised, leaving Rath and Shan alone.

In his clinched left hand was a pebble. It had a role in this, but April didn't reveal how it fit.

"That in time it will be reveled," she whispered in his ear after slipping it in his mouth.

He had focus on defeating Shan. An unfocused mind will get him killed. Lest that was what Cob would beat into his mind. To kill or not to be kill, what a question. That was the life of a gunslinger. Chiba always offered a different way to killing. Just beating your enemy got result better then killing. Rath worked both ways. How not killing seemed difficult but not unreasonably. Again had to focus his mind.

The gong echoed from the darkness. Picking up the knife, Rath let the peddle slip from his hand. His ears detected a splashing sound below him. Before this could register this, Shan took a slash at Rath. He dodged it and swept Shan off his feet. His back landed against the log. He tried standing, but Rath's left heel connected with Shan's right temple. This sent him off the log.

Rath rolled off the opposite side of the. They dangled from the leather straps in midair. Before Shan could react, Rath cut the strap. They dropped towards the bottom. Splash was heard. They had landed in water not on spikes.

Rath's head broke the surface of the water. Suddenly the carven was luminosity. The light revealed above the pit was a circle of onlookers. His ears caught murmur of conversation among the crowd.

"Since Shan hit the water first," declared the shaman, "you, Rath Kalong, have become the newest a member of the tribe."

Ropes lifted them out of the pit. His eyes were scanning the crowd. Stopping, his eyes caught April. She was motioning with her finger against her lips to stay quiet.

"Why did she help?" he thought as he was lead out of the carven.


	8. Unwanted Path Taken

Unwanted Path Taken

The flames of the big camp fire lit the night up. Shadows danced off the rocks of the cliff walls. Sounds of hands striking against animal leather and chanting echoed through down the canyon walls. In traditional tribal dress, men danced around the big flame. It was telling the stories of heroes from the past. This celebration was for a gunslinger, who became the newest member of the tribe. Every new member gets this treatment. Rath just seems a curiosity sight among the circle of men, a white dot among a sea of red.

A wooden craved pipe was being passed around to each man. It came to April, who sat on his right. She took a few puffs from it. The fragrance assaulted his nose. It seemed familiar like a crazed man attacking with a knife.

"Devil grass?" Rath asked.

"Smoking it doesn't cause grass madness," coughed April, "only chewing it does," handing it to him.

Warily he took the pipe from April. Studying it, finally he took a few puffs. Coughing brought some laughter from the circle.

"Don't let that bruised a gunslinger's ego," stated April, "It'll ruin the wonderful mood."

"My body has suffered worse beating then few laughs at my ego," commented Rath.

A female handed a clay bowel to him.

"Why you not being a good woman and help serve the men?" asked Rath.

"Simply not married, my family position, and," she said with a glee, "I've proven not to be a simply woman."

A liquid was poured into the clay bowel.

"Don't ask," she said, "It's hard to say even with a cleared head," lifting the bowel and taking a sip.

"I've tried worse," Rath commented taking a mouthful of the liquid.

After a few rounds of drinking and smoking, Rath's head grew lit. The sounds of cerebration seemed to slow and become muddled together. April's laughing face began fading away. Rath's vision became covered by darkness. His body seemed to float in the darkness. Calmness claimed him for fear couldn't. A bright light headed towards him. It shot into his body. No pain was felt. His hand tapped against his chest to find the entry wound. None could be found.

He caught a glimpse of his right hand. Hair started to grow on his hand. Hair grew over his skin. From head to toe, he was covered with fur. His nose began stretching from his face. It formed a muzzle. His hands and feet changed into paws. His became long.

Pain was felt in his temples. The throbbing pain cut short the realization of him changing into a wolf. The pain woke him from his slumber.

Blinking his eyes adjusted his sight. He wasn't outside by the campfire among a circle of men. In the fact, he was inside a tent. Looking around, he realized it was the interior of April's tent. He was in fact laying on a familiar bunk. In the bunk with him, was April. Only animal skins covered their naked bodies.


	9. Morning After

Morning After

Rath got up. April's head slid off his chest and landed on the pillow. Waking up and lifting her head up, the affects of last night slowly was registering through her body especially her head. Throbbing pain pounded against her temples.

"Guess the juice had some rememberable effect," groggy she said rubbing her temples.

"That's a lie," he remarked, "cause I don't remember how we ended up sharing this bunk."

"Just proves it was good that there's no memory," she said staring at his naked ass as he began looking for his clothes.

Finding his pants hanging from the mantle of April's stove, slipped his legs into the pants. Buttoning and buckling the pants on, he started to look for his boots.

"Here," said April handing him one boot from under the bunk.

Putting it on, "Where's the other?"

"Not under the bunk," she said, "Try the stove.

He did and sure enough there it was. Shaking ash out of the boot slipped it on like its mate.

"You might want this," April said throwing him the shirt.

"What else are you hiding?" he asked buttoning his shirt.

She got up, letting the skins fall to the ground. Walking and letting him stare at her naked body. He wanted to look away, but her body fascinated him. She kept her back to him.

Sitting on her knees, "Has enough time to find the train?" she asked removing the plank from the floor.

Rolling up his bed roll, "Depends how long to find a trailfinder and resupply," he answered.

"Which's little you have?"

"With one rider and the route through the canyon should make up for lost time."

"Not even the bravest use that canyon."

"No choice," Rath said strapping his saddlebags closed, "Once that trail finder leads them. Those articles will be claimed by the four winds," walking out.

Walking towards his saddled horse, the Dinh appeared between him and the horse.

"Have your needs be meet?"

"Yes."

"A warrior needs his weapons," motioning behind Rath.

Turning around, Rath saw a dressed April walking towards them with a wrapped up blanket. She handled the blanket to Rath. Taking and unwrapping the blanket, he discovered his gun belt along with oiled and cleaned shooters. Buckled the belt on and holstered the shooters. He noticed the Dinah was gone, but April stayed.

Kissing his cheek, "Return," she said.

He lifted himself onto the horse and galloped towards the opening. Turning, his last glimpse was April standing with her arms crossed.


	10. The Canyon Route

The Canyon Route

Three sunrises pasted since that glimpse of April with her arms crossed. From a hilltop, he saw the opening to the canyon plus the distance that was left to ride. At lest, a day of riding before he could follow the short cut.

"Burning daylight," he said towards his horse before galloping towards the opening.

Closer they got to the opening difficult the horse got, but Rath was to fight him towards the entrance.

"Easy," calming patting the black neck, "Know this place smells bad, but got no time to go around." nudging the steed into opening of the mountain. Light shown through an opening along the cave ceiling, Rath followed it, snaking through the mountain. Unnatural black appeared on the surfaces that didn't get light.

His ears detected no echo of hoofs striking against the rock floor. Slowly he removed the strap from the hammer of his shooters. His eyes continued scanning the scenery before him.

A split in the path appeared. Both looked the same.

"Which to pick?" asked Rath.

The horse pointed his muzzle towards the left path.

Laughter echoed from the right path causing Rath to pause. Trying to head towards the right path to investigate, but the horse wouldn't go. Sliding off the saddle, Rath pulled the reigns towards the right.

Still refusing to follow, "You stay," said Rath following the right path.

Laughter became giggling as he came closer to the source. Around a corner, he saw a pool of water. In the pool was a naked April splashing in the water.

Giggling, she said, "Hello, lover."

Words stuck in his throat as he slowly walked towards her. His hands flexed their grip on the handle of his shooters. Splashing of water as his feet entered the pool. Her arms went around his neck.

Staring into her brown eyes, "How did you get here?" stumbled from his lips.

Nudging her nose against his right ear, "Rode a fast horse," she whispered kissing his ear.

Fog covered his mind.

"Feel dizzy," he mumbled.

Her cupped hands picked up some water.

"Here wet that dry throat," edging her hands to his lips.

Loud neighing woke Rath from his daze. Moving as hoofs were getting close, watched swinging front hoofs sent April backwards into the water. Quickly getting out, Rath watched April stand up.

"That beast!" she cursed.

Her brown skin and black hair became transparent. In fact, Rath could see the rock wall through her. Drawing his shooter and pulling the trigger, a bullet went into her stomach. Her hands covered the wound. Her human features melted away. Her shape liquidated and descended into the pool.

Reholstering his shooter, "Water nymphs," he snorted.

Grapping the reigns, patted the black neck.

"So you followed," he said getting nudged in the chest, "Ok, you got more sense then the rider," nudged again, "I should've listened," leading back towards the left, "Now lets get out of here," returning onto the saddle.

Finally exiting the canyon without further delay, four muscular black went into a full gallop after spurs into the ribs.


	11. Recovering

Recovering

A dust covered Rath and the black horse, now more brown then black, passed under a "Welcome to Mid" sign. As the horse slowly followed the dirt street, they passed a wagon train on their left. People, loading and checking cargo and supplies, didn't notice him passing and studying them. Passing the front of the wagon train, he noticed a familiar orange tint horse with a familiar brand on its rump tethered in front of a hotel.

Pulling down his bandanna from his mouth and nose and getting off the saddle, he tethered his horse. Dirt shook off him as he passed through the two swinging doors. He walked towards the desk clerk, who was filling the mail slots. Rath stood as the clerk continued stuffing the slots.

Beside his right hand was a bell. Above the bell was a sign. "Ring for service," was printed on the sign. Slapping the bell made the clerk turn around and stare the dust covered Rath.

"Yes?"

"Which room has the owner of that?" pointing to the orange tinted horse beside the dirt coated black horse.

"Why?"

Removing a gold coin from his coat pocket then put it on the counter. With his finger, slid it towards the clerk.

The astounded clerk tried grabbing the coin, but Rath grabbed his wrist.

Pulling him into the counter, "Which room?" hissed Rath, twisting the clerk's arm.

"Ten."

"Alone?"

Pain on the clerk's face couldn't be faked.

"Depends. Women come and go from his room. It boggles one's mind how he keeps it up."

Smiling, "He's appetite hasn't slowed down," he thought releasing the wrist and leaving the coin behind.

The clerk rubbed his wrist as he stared at Rath walking up the stairs. Looking around, Room Ten appeared in Rath's line of sight. Putting his ear to the door, the sound of lovers in the throes of passion filtered through the wooden door. Shaking his head, he almost hates to ruin this moment of ecstasy. Almost ended as his foot kicked the door opened.

Entering, he discovered a red headed naked woman, trying to cover herself, alone in bed and a shooter pointing to his head. The hammer clinking back, froze him.

"Didn't you learn that noisy spurs gets one killed faster then a bullet."

"Surprise you could hear over her."

"Why do you think I like her?"

"You always enjoyed loud ones, Cort."

Slowly the hammer went forward to the safe position, allowing Rath to turn and stare at a grinning Cort. Walking towards a dresser, Cort placed his shooter top of the dresser. Picking a bottle up and removing the top, he poured the contents into two glasses. Returning the top onto the bottle, walked towards Rath with both glasses in hand.

Handing a glass to Rath, "You need a bath," gulping his drink.

"Blame the dust storm," remarked Rath shooting the liquor down his throat.

"Where's April?" refilling his glass.

"What about her?" Rath asked motioning with his glass towards the sheet covered redhead.

Putting his glass down on the dresser, "Oh yeah," commented Cort walking towards her, "Darling time to leave."

"Why?"

Pulling her up, "Man talk."

With the sheet wrapped around her and picking up her discarded saloon outfit, "Throw me out the door like trash. You acted and talk different. In the end, you're typical."

Grabbing her chin, "Treating women wrong isn't in my bones," releasing her chin. Dangling a pouch before her, "Believe this the agreed amount," putting the string in her mouth and pushing her jaw closed, "When this business ends, pleasure comes next," staring deep into her eyes.

Opening her mouth dropped the pouch into her opened palm, "Why didn't you say so?" closing her hand around the pouch, "Will your friend need company?"

Opening the door, "He'll take care of himself," leading her out the door, "while I'll take care of you."

Brushing her finger across his cheek walked away.

Closing the door and turning around, "Where's April?"

"With the sand walkers," refilling his glass, "Ever found out the reason for the attack?"

Motioning his head, no.

"Defiling a grave by taking a skull and necklace," finishing off his glass, "Now they're gone," turning the glass upside down and placed it on the dresser.

Sitting on the bed, "Did you past a wagon train while entering town?"

"That was them?" Why are they still here?"

Slipping on and buttoning his shirt up, "All the trail finders were busy tracking down some banditoes," sliding his feet into his boots, "They returned before the dust hit," retrieving and buckling his belt, "What's the plan?" standing up.

Handing the shooter from the dresser to Cort, "You know the members of the hunting party?"

Reholstering it, "I know the five."

"Check their wagons along while I talk to them," opening the door.

Stepping out, "Sounds like a plan," locking the door, "Did you get a piece of April?"

Walking towards the stairs, "I was a prisoner," walking down the stairs, "Didn't have time to be under sheets with her," stepping off the stairs, "Let's finish this to get back April," remarked Rath.

"Wait," said Cort walking towards the desk clerk.

Waiting as Cort talked to the clerk, Rath noticed some of the women were noticing the actions of Cort.

"He had a lot of time on his hands," thought Rath.

Slapping Rath's shoulder, "Lets go," said Cort motioning his head towards the swinging doors.

Walking towards the wagon, Cort went a different direction as Rath continued forward. He saw the wagon master talking to an older man wearing rugged clothes. Getting closer noticed the older just had a lot of hair that made him look old.

Noticing Rath, "Did you find the woman?" asked the wagon master.

"Yes."

"Got caught in the dust storm that delay."

Slapping some dust off his coat sleeve, "Correct."

"Then why are you here?"

"Tying a few loose ends up. Like why were they chased?"

"Simply their scalps were on the line."

"It's better if I heard their side? Shouldn't take to long if you're in a hurry."

"No, finalizing terms with the trailfinder," motioning towards a young boy, "Bart go get Tom, Clint, Steve Vincent, and Logan, now."

Shaking his head in acknowledgment, Bart ran off to find the five that set this adventure in motion.

"You're a gunslinger?" asked the trail finder.

"Yes, why?"

"You look the type."

"Understand you were chasing some banditoes."

"You're correct. Four of them to be exact, two men and two women. One had an evil name."

"What was it?"

"Mort."

"Second time that I heard that name," thought Rath.

Bart showed up with the five, stopping Rath's thought process.

"Which one's Tom?" asked Rath.

"The young un," remarked wagon master.

"Stand in line as…what's your name?"

"Rath."

"Right. As Rath questions you."

Studying the line, Rath walked towards Tom.

"You're Tom."

"Yes, sir."

"Be around women much, Tom."

"No, what does this to do with the savages."

"Trying to understand why they would what you. It wasn't like you were trying to steal their women, were you."

"No, sir."

"Correct, I mean any woman with taste wouldn't want a pup like you expect your mother."

"Leave my mother out of this."

"Is she died?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good didn't what her to die from shame because of you. Turning over in her grave cause you're chasing savage women, not petite women that your mother would prove of, or did she even fear those kind. You're properly such a tit sucking boy that your mother's tits were the only thing your mouth sucked on."

Taking a swing at Rath, Tom's fist hit air. Years of listening to Chiba allowed Rath to dodge that wild punch. Taking another swing at Rath just sent Tom spinning onto the ground.

"You can stop making a fool of Tom," commented the wagon master.

"Making Tom a fool," stated Rath, "He was already a fool. Someone just had to prove it."

"It wasn't a woman," blunted Tom.

"Now Tom, why would you say that?" remarked Rath.

"Don't answer, Tom," came from the line.

Studying the line, "Cracks are appearing," thought Rath.

"Why shouldn't he answer, Steve?" asked the wagon master.

"Yes, Steve, why shouldn't he answer?" repeated Rath, "Cause it wasn't your scalp they were after, was it. You took something of theirs, didn't you, Tom."

Far replaced the anger in his eyes.

"Tight lipped, Tom," came from a familiar voice.

Holding a leather bag with drawstrings, "This might loosen answer from his lips," pulling a necklace from the bag.

"It was them!" shouted Tom.

"Shut up!" bellowed one as he unsheathed a knife.

"No, Clint!" begged Tom as the blade went across his throat.

Rath sent a bullet in to Clint's arm and then his chest.

Cort's shooter stopped Steve from sticking Rath. One dropped to the ground, but he wasn't their worries. The one holding a knife to the wagon master's throat was.

"Now, Vincent don't be hasty," chocked the wagon master.

Pointing his shooter, "Got him?" asked Rath.

Aiming his shooter, "Until you pull the trigger," answered Cort.

Pulling the trigger sent a bullet into Vincent's hand. Cort followed by putting a bullet into Vincent's mouth.

Reholstering his shooter, "Guess this is Logan," remarked Rath motioning towards the man cowering on the ground.

Returning the necklace into the bag, "You're correct," commented Cort, "Wagon master, he's your problem. We got what we want."

"Fine, Logan will be expelled from the train."

Walking away, "Better get riding," said Rath.

Handing the bag to Rath, "Wait, is April in any danger?" asked Cort.

"No, but nothing. You need a bath and your horse sleep."

"And what will you be doing?"

"Unfinished business with a redhead," answered Cort walking into the hotel."


	12. Rematch

Rematch

Riding back took a little longer then planned. Cort had to say good-bye to ladies that kept him company until Rath appeared. Since Rath didn't want to take the canyon route, that added more time. April wasn't their problem. Cob beating them back to Terra was, however they would be late then leave her behind ever if it gave Cob reasons to punish them.

"Why are you slowing down Rath?" asked Cort.

Pointing, "That," answered Rath.

A lone rider was in the distance. Getting closer, Rath recognized the rider. It was Shan.

"Shan, we have the stolen items," remarked Rath, "Why are you in battle paint?"

"We have unfinished things to settle," stated Shan.

"Like what?"

"The woman helped you. We must fight to death."

"Must be another way."

Throwing his spear, it landed inches from Rath.

"Don't, Cort," stopped Cort from pulling the trigger, "It's between us. Shan, if you win my friend lives to return the items and take back April."

"Agreed," sliding off his horse.

Rath did the same thing. Unbuckling his belt, hung it from the saddle horn. His hat covered the handle of his shooter. Unsheathing the knife from his boot, Rath stared at Shan who had his knife ready.

Slowly they moved counterclockwise in a circle. Shan's left foot slid towards his right. His right foot slid forward. Again his left foot slid towards his right as his right slid forward.

Rath's left foot crossed over his right. Then his right moved forward foot. Again his left foot crossed over his right as his right moved forward. They repeated this as the radius of the circle slowly became smaller.

Rath's right hand held his knife, as his left was ready to catch Shan's knife hand.

Holding his knife differently then during the log pit fight, Shan clearly showed he knew what Rath was capable of. Rath didn't hold that line of thinking about Shan's ability. Moving in rhythm with Shan, Rath was prepared to counter Shan's attempts. This was the same method he used in hand to hand combat. May explain why Cob didn't what to fight him? Most gunslingers knew that Rath didn't go through the hand to hand combat, but the rarely used obstacle course. Those who seen Rath fight had no doubt about his ability. Those who didn't usually got knocked to the ground after challenging him. Most of the time he ignored the challengers until they crossed a line. Shan crossed that line and Rath had no choice , but to kill him.

Shan took a swipe at Rath. Rath didn't counter. He wanted to see how bold Shan would get. Shan took another attempt. This time the blade went across the back of Rath's left wrist. His eyelids squinted to the pain. Moving his left hand back caused Shan to be bold. Shan's knife went forward. Rath's left hand slapped against wrist of Shan's knife hand. This left Shan's side opened.

Rath's blade went forward and went between Shan's rib bones. The blade pierced Shan's heart. Shan's head nodded before he dropped to the ground. Normally Rath swiped his knife cleaned on his dead opponent's clothes. However, he felt this would disgrace Shan. Between his index finger and thumb, the blade was wiped clean of blood.

Cort held the reigns of Shan's horse as Rath draped Shan's blanket wrapped body over the bare back of Shan's horse. After Rath got on his horse, they continued their ride.

Entering through the entrance, Cort's whistle revealed his surprise as a crowd gathered around them. Getting off his horse, Rath carried the leather bag to the Dinah. April was standing by beside the Dinah.

Handing the bag towards the Dinah, "Hope the dead can finally get some rest," said Rath.

Taking the bag, "And Shan."

"Dead fighting."

Nodding his head walked away. Two men took the reigns from Cort. The crowd slowly thinned out.

"Well is that it?" asked Cort.

"Yes," answered April, "Fill the water skins and we can get out of here."

"Let me just show the watering hole," said Cort taking the horses.

Cort walked away as Rath and April stared at each other.

"Time for me to get ready," said April turning.

Following her to her tent, Rath wondered how he was going to tell her how he loved ever if it was liquor influenced.

Getting to the entrance of her tent, she turned around and kissed him.

"It wasn't liquor influenced," she remarked entering her tent.

"What have I gotten myself into?" thought Rath, "Just play the hand," walking to help Cort.


	13. Unfinished Business

Unfinished Business

They rode like their life depended on it. Actually it did, if Cob beat them back, Rath and Cort knew the punishment was going to be sever.

Stopping on top of a hill, "That it?" asked April.

"Terra," proclaimed Cort, "Home of the gunslingers and Judges."

"Don't forget the house of the man god," remarked Rath, "Let's continue we may still have a chance," spurring his horse.

"Slim to none," commented Cort following Rath.

However, five men with long barrels had different ideas.

Stopping, "Well look who followed and waited for us," said Rath, "Cort, don't you recognize them maybe if they laid their face in dirt you might remember."

"The five you threw out the bar."

"Correct, now gentlemen we will be taking Miss Rivera," said the mustached man.

"Three or two?" asked Rath.

"Could try three, but safe around two," answered Cort.

"What's that numbers talk about?" asked the mustached man.

"How many we can kill a piece?" answered Rath drawing his shooter and fanning the hammer.

Cort did the same thing. Five men dropped without pulling their triggers.

"Three," said Rath.

"No, I got the third one," said Cort.

April got off her horse to check the bodies.

"No, no, no, I got the third one," remarked Rath.

"No, I did. You're always bending numbers into your favor," commented Cort.

"There is two bullets wounds in this one," said April.

"My bullet entered first," said Rath.

Before Cort could answer, "Hey are you going to keep arguing or are you going to ride to Terra!" shouted April as she rode away.

"It is going to interesting with her around," remarked Rath spurring his horse towards April.

"Still my bullet hit first," commented Cort following Rath.

It didn't matter who's bullet hit first for Cob beat them to Terra by two days. Trench digging duty was their punishment. No regrets for meeting April since.


	14. Water Pool of Life and Death

Water Pool of Life and Death

Continuing his trek, his skin dried and cracked. His eyelids were getting harder to keep opened. The eyelids stayed opened long enough to view the scenery of sand.

Something emerged from the desolate horizon. Closing his eyes as forward motion of his feet continued. It properly was heat sickness. It made people see things. His nose picked up a familiar scent, however his mind couldn't register it.

A misstep landed his face in the sand. The sand felt strange. Not dry and hot, but wet and cool. Slowly and painfully opening his eyes. A smile stretched from his lips. Laughter escaped from his dry painful throat. A water pool laid inches from him. Sun danced on its surface.

Crawling towards the water proved difficult for his hand was tied. Sitting upright on his knees, walked forward. Walking on his knees plus dragging a death-shrouded body was a pain in his neck.

The determination, that carried him this water hole, didn't let this snag stop him from getting a drink. Finally he fell forward and landed face down in the water. Quickly sense caused him to pull his face out of the water.

The water may quench his thirst; death by drowning in the middle of a wasteland wasn't in his plans. Slowly drinking caused his stomach to tightened.

Turning face up, the water cooled the back of his neck. Underwater his ears detected something walking towards him. However, his mind recalled boots striking against a stone floor.


	15. Maze to Death

Maze to Death

Boots striking against the stone floor filtered towards his ears. Leaning against the wall, he peered around the corner. The back of his adversary appeared within his view. Carefully removing his shooter from its holster, aimed at the back.

Before he could react, a second opponent appeared and sent a bullet towards him. It knocked his shooter out of his hand.

Bullets showered the corner he hid behind. His fallen shooter shot away from his reach.

Retreating from the lost cause until he can turn it around. Running through the twist and turns that one would expect from a maze. Stopping when a dead end appeared before him. Footsteps echoed louder towards him.

Taking few steps back ran towards a corner. His left foot caught the side then his right went higher. He climbed up the corner until his hand grabbed the edge. Pulling his up discovered the top of the walls were wide enough for him.

Removing a small cylinder from his duster pocket pushed the button. It became a long bo staff. Laying on the top of the wall waited for his chasers to come.

His ears picked up footsteps coming near along with voices.

"Where's did he go?" asked a female voice.

"He's here," answered a male voice, "Could've missed him."

Moving to a crouching position dropped and landed between the two pursers. Twisting, one end of the staff hit the back of the male's neck then the other end hit the female's cheek.

Hitting the male's hand that held the shooter, he had the female pinned with his boot against her throat.

Interrupting his follow up was, "Stop!"

After removing his foot from the brown female's throat, stonewalls sunk into the ground. Three pair of eyes were on the short man walking towards them.

"What the manure do you call that?" he yelled.

Staring at the enraged master gunslinger, he waited for answer.

Returning the cylinder to his duster pocket, "A strategy at beating superior numbers, Cob," remarked Rath.

"Strategy? Losing your shooter part of your strategy?"

"Seemed an easy shot at the time."

"Easy shots get you killed if you're not watching for a counter," turning towards Cort and April, "and you thought he was going to be easy prey."

Rubbing his wrist, "Two against on seemed good odds," answered Cort.

"Good odds? You know him. Fought along with him. You didn't think he would beat you? Unknown enemy would've killed you. Remember this. Now get out of my face before you're on manure detail." walking away from them.

"What pissed him off?" asked Rath.

Getting into Rath's face, "Hit him in the cheek then put your boot against his throat," yelled April, "and see if he gets pissed off."

"Can't help that I'm good with this staff," stated Rath.

"I'm the reason you learned about the staff."

"Apprentice's better then the master?"

Throwing her arms into the air, "Aaa men!" yelled April storming off.

"Guess everyone's mad at me today," commented Rath.

Still rubbing his wrist, "That's your nature," stated Cort.

"Thought I hit the back of your neck?"

"You did. The pain was replaced by my wrist."

"How's the wrist?"

"I'll live. April needs a man to cool off her temper."

"Explain."

"Being struck in a fortress full of men. Sure we got the ladies of the evening, but who does she have?"

"True, but I'm better with the staff then her."

"She did shoot this out of your hand," holding Rath's shooter.

Taking it and studying it, "She did, didn't she," reholstering it, Let's crack open a hog's head and cool that pyre cat's throat off," slapping Cort's stomach with his hat.

"Best idea I've heard all day," walking with Rath.


	16. Recklessness

Recklessness

Hallways of Terra led to many rooms. Sleeping quarters for beginners and expert gunslingers. Meeting rooms for passing out and receiving assignments. Dining rooms to eat.

A room exists for graduated and veteran gunslingers. Out of sight, out of mind. Here the gunslingers entertain themselves. Boards to throw knives at. Tables to strike colorful balls with numbers. Tables with cards players and chess players beside each other.

At the bar, which happens to be a gunslinger's favorite spot, sat Rath, Cort, and April cooling off their throats.

Throwing his arms around Rath and April's necks, "What…friends?" said Cort.

"Met your limit," stated Rath.

"Limit? Liquors like women there's no limit."

Turning towards April, "You need a man."

"That's my business," sipping her drink, "Why you think I need a man?"

"Surrounded by this," mockingly waving his hand, "Bet you would like to be reminded what a woman you are?"

Staring into his drunken eyes, "Know someone who could?"

"Well…keep wearing that rose fragrance and lure," sharply pointing towards Rath, "him."

"Not wearing rose fragrance."

"Yes, you are."

"Then you're breathing in this," tipping her glass.

Staring at the reddish tint liquid, "Forgot. You drink rosemary," laughing and slapping the counter, "Well guess this ass needs to be corralled so you lovers can break bunks," standing up and then dropped to the floor.

"Guess, he reached his limit," said Rath.

"Yep," agreed April.

"Better drag him to his bunk."

"After the next round," refilling her glass.

His lips touched her ear as her hand grasped the doorknob.

"Don't," she said, "You need to get back to Cort."

"He'll sleep off the round," he whispered, "thought you like this."

"Headache from the rosemary killing my appetite."

Sliding between her and the door, "Cort said it was time for you to be reminded you being a woman."

Smiling, she opened the door letting him stumble into her room.

"Now, return to your bunk and stop trying to crawl into mine," walking past him.

Closing the door, he watched her remove her holsters and put them on a chair. Her hat rested on the bunk post.

Standing before a mirror, she watched as Rath wrapped his arms around her.

"Go back to your bunk."

"No," kissing her neck, "until you tell me what's wrong."

"Nothing," she said.

"Then this shouldn't bother you," unbuttoning her shirt to reveal her corset.

Sweat and dirt covered her corset, but he didn't mind.

"For a man scared of being caught, you're sure taking risks," as the straps appeared from him sliding her shirt to her elbows.

"Liquor affecting the brain," kissing her shoulders.

"You don't drink much," turning to face him.

Kissing her forehead, "Enough sense," his lips touching her cheek, "to love you," finally stopping on the exposed skin of her collarbone.

Her hands landed on his ears and pulled his head back. Their eyes met. The passion in her brown eyes revealed her defenses came down.

"Help me take this pants and boots off," unbuckling his holster.

Their lips parted. It wasn't April's before his, but the face of a redhead. Before a word could be spoken, he's violently pulled away from her. She yells, "David!" as darkness swallows him.

Calmness covers his body. Quickly his eyes opened. His brain registers him sitting down. Difficultly moving his head. He's naked and strapped to a stone chair.

A man in robes steppes from the darkness. The man reveals that Rath will save the world.

By saying Rath's not his name, the man responds, "Will be now," then pain shot through Rath's body.

Quickly sitting up, his eyes scanning his surroundings. Sweat covered his naked body. Sheets draped over his legs. Looking to his left saw April laying on her stomach. Her face turned away from him.

The nightmare plagued him. The infrequency of it drove him slightly mad. He laid on the side of the bunk near the wall. He slid towards the foot of the bunk. His bare feet touched the cold floor. His clothes and hers littered the room.

Getting up popped joints as he went towards the window.

Pushing open the shutters, "Why didn't Terra have glass windows?" he wondered. No one had answer.

Slight breeze brushed over his bare skin. Stars decorated the dark sky. He slept under skies like this much like the sheets on April's bunk.

She was right. Boldness started to grip him. He acted like spring came early.

Turning away from the window, he located his pants under April's bunk. He slipped them on and sat on the chair. April's shooters dug into his back. Shifting them, rested against the chair back.

Sight of black hair blanketing over April's cheek made him chuckle. That sight was the reason why spring came early. Getting up from the chair, he located the rest of his gear. Staring out the window, again. The moon was setting. Time to return to Cort.

After buttoning his shirt up, leaned close to April. Kissing his fingers then touched her cheek.

His belt rolled up in his duster. He peeked out the door. No one walking the halls. Slipping out quietly closed the door. He hurried back to his room.


	17. Separate Paths

Separate Paths

Morning came. Leaving their room, Rath wanted to eat, but Cort had other plans.

"During my drunken slumber did you follow my suggestion?" Cort asked.

Entering dining room, "Where were you during my drunken slumber if you didn't follow up on my suggestion?"

In line to get food, "Why did you sneak in before wake up?"

Walking towards a table, "We're friends you can talk after bunk riding," sitting down.

Stuffing his mouth, Cort continued with his questions, but Rath couldn't understand a word for all the food in Cort's mouth.

April appeared with a tray and sat down. Cort started talking to her. The food in his mouth just brought a strange look from April.

Clearing his throat, "So did you follow my suggestion since Rath won't talk."

Before she could answer, the gong went off. From the balcony, Russell read the assignments for the gunslingers in the room.

"Rath, April, and Cort report to St. Edwards."

"About time," said Cort getting up, "Practice doesn't do me good if I'm sitting around bored."

Walking out, Rath didn't care. Being summoned stopped the questioning.

Knocking on the door, they wanted until told to enter.

"Enter!" came through the door.

Opening the door, they entered. Closing the door, Rath watched St. Edwards sitting at his desk as Cob studied some paper in his hands. St. Edwards seemed older with gray hair in his beard. Rath recalled only seeing him during his first appearance in Terra, April joining, and the explanation of his patchwork memory.

Rath should considered Edwards a father. Yet Rath couldn't, the dream of Edwards gave him caution to trust Edwards. Rath never told Edwards about his dreams.

"Civil unrest is keeping the Judges busy," he said.

That booming voice snapped Rath's mind back to the present.

"Cob will give you further directions."

Rath took a folded paper from Cob.

"Now Cort," said Cob, "you're to report to Gilead."

"Sir, why?" Cort asked.

"You need a reason?"

"Well sir, I hasn't been to Gilead in years because of my father ordered me to be here."

"Your father's ordering you back. He needs you because his teaching duties are overwhelming him. He figured since gunslinging added years to your hair and calmed your wild impulses. Time to return to his side."

"Well don't know what to say?"

"Say nothing just go and do your duty."

"Yes, sir."

"Now dismissed."

Leaving Edwards's room and closing the door, Rath read the paper.

"Where we're going?" asked April.

"Deadwood," Rath answered.

"His teaching duties overwhelming," mumbled Cort, "Properly got himself hurt by making too many students mad at him."

Cort didn't notice April leaning close to him.

Kissing Cort's cheek, "For your journey," she said.

"Know how long I waited for those lips to kiss me?" Cort commented.

Rath and Cort stared at each other. Things that passed between them. How can one put it in words?

Grabbing Cort's right forearm, "Guess our paths separate," Rath stated, "until they cross again."

Returning the gesturing, "Don't forget this bond, Rath," Cort said.

Letting go, Cort walked away from them.

After Cort's back faded in the distance, April asked, "What did that mean?"

"Simply Cort's days of riding with us are over," he said, "He's gone to be a master gunslinger."

They walked to get ready for their ride.


	18. Trap Sprung

Trap Sprung

Passing through a valley of hills, Rath and April arrived at Deadwood. The town lived up to its name. No one could be seen. Not a sound of life could be detected.

"Hello?" shouted April.

Echo of her greeting answered back.

"Dead town?" April asked.

"Let's check the lawman's dwelling for answers."

The hoofs struck the dirt as the wind blew across the street. Stopping in front of building with "Law" across a sign on the porch.

Sliding off the saddles and tethering their horses, they walked up the creaking steps and across the porch. The wind was blowing the front door open and close. It stopped when they got close to the door. Rath carefully pushed the door open. Creaking of door hinges was only sound of activity detected from the building. Boards revealed only their footsteps entering the room.

Heading towards the desk, "Kept guard, April," Rath said.

Opening the drawers, he discovered only cobwebs and dust. Finally the center draw, Rath discovered the lawman's ledger.

Flipping through the pages, he heard, "Any answers?" from April who still was staring out the door.

"Some pages are unreadable," he stated motioning with his thumb, "Check jail cells."

Her boots dreaked against the floor as he continued flipping through pages

"Nothing," she said leaning on her hands against the desk, "Anything useful?"

"Patches of information on recent events. Four riders enter town. They're spreading gold around. Saloons not closing. Guns shots into the air. People dying," face jerking back, "Lake on fire. A plague spreading through town. Green decaying skin on corpuses. Strange."

"What?"

"Corpuses rising from graves," closing the ledger.

Neighing sounds from outside drew their attention. Walking outside, stopped.

Walking towards them were a few people.

"How can they be scarying the horses?" asked April.

Slowly more people were coming.

"Hello?" greeted April.

Rath's eyes caught something on the crowds' skin. The tint of their skin was wrong. It was green.

Sending his hand towards his shooter, he drew it and send a bullet into a leg of the closest person to them. The figure fell flat on his face. No one complained or seems concerned that someone was shot. In fact, the figure got up and continued walking with a bum leg. The bullet in his leg didn't slow him down.

Removing the second shooter, "Saddle up!" he yelled aiming and firing at the closest walking bodies.

Sitting on her saddle, her shooter came out and fanning the hammer back.

getting on his horse, "Ride!" he ordered spurring his horse.

They rode through the thinned out line of corpuses.

Dust rose as they rode towards the edge of the hills.

April's horse fell forward. Her leg trapped under the dead horse. getting off, Rath pulled April out from under the killed horse. Before he could to his hore, bullets chased it off.

Bullets danced around them as he dragged her towards a boulder. Behind the boulder, bullets chipped at the edges.

"Anything broken?" asked Rath.

"Besides a woman's pride," she grimaced, "Left leg, not well."

Patting her legs, "You're right, the left does seem wrong."

Drawing her shooter, "Think we sprung a trap?" peering from the edge of the boulder, pulled the trigger.

Drawing his shooter and peering from his edge of the boulder, sent bullets in the same direction as her bullets were going

Emptying the chamber, "Town was properly already dead," reloading his shooter.

Reloading hers, "That plague?" pulling the trigger.

Nodding in agreement, he sent empty cases from the chamber dropping to the ground.

Reloading, "What magic did that?" she asked pulling the trigger.

Counting bullets, "Something beyond our knowledge," he answered.

Reloading, "Why didn't they follow?" she asked firing.

Reloading, "Who?"

Reloading, "The corpuses," she commented, "They're not here."

"Those pinning us down properly know necromancy."

Firing off some shots, Rath detected voices complaining about bullets nearly getting hit them.

"Getting close," he stated.

Firing few shots, "But your luck's same as mine," she retorted.

Splashing in his ears grew, but his mind returned to the shoot out.

"How's your ammo?" Rath asked.

Clicking of April's shooters answered his question.

Reholstering her empty shooters, "You?" she asked.

"Two," he answered.

Sliding to towards him, her back laid against his waist. Back of her head laid on his chest.

"You know something?" she asked.

"No, what?"

Turning and staring into his eyes, "The risks was worth it," kissing his lips and returning the back of her head to his chest .

Her hands directed his gun holding hand towards the side of her head. The barrel was aimed at her temple with the hammer cocked. Her body shook as the bullet entered her skull. Blood sprayed the surface of the boulder as life exited her body. His hand closed her eyelids.

He held her as his ears detected footsteps nearing him. Long barrels being loaded caused him to stare at four barrels aimed at him.

"One instead two," he remarked returning his eyes to the dead April Rivera.


	19. Death’s Decision

Death's Decision

Something nudged him. It was too soft for a punch. Opening his eyes revealed a muzzle in his face. A familiar red scar on the black muzzle brought a smile on his face.

"So you didn't return," he coughed.

The nudging continued.

"Let me drink first," turning onto his stomach.

Drinking, the pain wasn't as great as before. It faded as water went down his throat.

Turning around and standing on his knees, motioned with his head and said, "Down."

Slowly the horse went down and sat on its knees in front Rath. Pulling the rope with his tied hands, with his back to the horse wrapped the rope around the saddle horn. Rath crawled onto the saddle and sat on the rope.

"Up," nudging with his boot heel into the horse ribs.

Slowly it stood up.

"Home."

Dragging the April's body, the horse walked. As they moved, Rath remembered fists pounding into his body.

The long barrels belonged to two females and two males. After they had caught him, they had tied and dragged him into a cave. Their dressed in black male leader had left before the games began. The other three had stripped his clothes off, bound his hands, and strung him with his hands above his head ready for the butchering.

"Didn't want to ruin your fine clothes, Rath," said the white hair woman, "War, how do you like our guest?"

Cracking his knuckles, "Doesn't look tough," said the muscle bound War, "Gunslingers always seem overrated to me, Famine," throwing his fist into Rath's face.

Laughter increased as his head whipped back. War threw his fists against Rath's trunk. Cracking ribs didn't stop the onslaught of punches. When punches sent Rath swinging, kicks would send him back into the punches.

The two females dug scratched and sliced their nails into his flesh. Blood blanketed his body.

Throwing a couple more punches into Rath's stomach, "Playing with this live meat," said War, "a real improvement over dead meat," turning towards the brown hair near the fire, "Pestilence, how are the hot knives coming? He has been tenderized enough, time for a barbecue."

Holding up the knife, Pestilence blew on the glowing red section of the knife. Spitting on it, the spittle hissed.

"That and everything else is ready for the meat burning," she said.

Holding a hot nail with pincers, "Rath, just you know," remarked Pestilence, "We not doing this for information. No, we're doing this because we like doing it just so you know," pressing the nail into his bare skin.

Skin sizzled. Rath grimaced in pain yet he did yell.

Grasping his head, "Did she kiss you like this?" asked Pestilence kissing him and then digging her teeth into his lower lip.

Pulling Pestilence away with her teeth still gripping his lip, "How dare you kiss Pestilence?" said Famine slapping him and then biting his ear.

Loud snapping filled the cave.

Testing a whip, "Maybe he needs real women treatment?" remarked Pestilence.

Throwing a whip towards Famine, together they let the whip slice into Rath's back. Pestilence switched and started to work on his front. Each snap and crackle sliced Rath's flesh.

"Thinks not yelling is going to remove the fact he is a coward," said War, "Didn't have the guts to kill your self, but to kill a woman," holding a knife, "Let's make him a woman sine he's a disappoint as a man."

"Wait, War!" stopped War.

Standing in the cave door way, was their leader.

"Leave some dignity," he said.

Throwing the knife down, "Ruin the fun, Death," grumbled War.

Death walked towards Rath. Grabbing Rath's chin lifted his head up until their eyes met.

"You wouldn't be any chance be Mort?" asked Rath.

"Surprising you can still speak," remarked Death, "Yes, I do go by that name. Where did you pick up that name?"

"Aquaiel."

"You meet and killed Steve," commented Death, "Well April was part of a plan to overthrow the Judges. Now she's died, we'll have to find some else to use," studying Rath's eyes, "Famine check his eyes."

Staring into Rath's eyes, "See a hunger, but not from a lack of food," she remarked, "If he was untied, he'll properly take us on."

"You did coat your nails, didn't you?"

"Yes, Death."

"What did the boss say?" asked War.

Still holding Rath's chin up, "We have another kingdom to overthrow," Death said, "and our imagination will deal with him," letting Rath's chin go, "Pestilence, clean him up."

Disappointment was apparent in Pestilence's body.

"Didn't say anything about using water?" remarked Death.

Rath's skin was still irritated from the poisoned bath Pestilence had given him. He was dressed, hands tied behind his back, blindfolded, and placed on a mule.

The heat gave away that they were outside. Hoofs striking rock disappeared. They went over hills through rivers. Leaves rustled as wind bushed against Rath's skin.

Stopping, something went around his neck. The blindfold was cut and removed. Before his eyes could adjust to the brightness, he was kicked off the mule. His face landed in sand. Getting up, saw Death staring down at him.

"Left one bullet in your shooter since it took one to kill your lady love," turning his horse to Rath's left, "That bullet just case you can't take the heat," slowly riding away.

War passed Rath and spit at him. Famine and Pestilence mockingly blew kisses at him. They dragged two brushes behind them. It wiped out their tracks. They disappeared from Rath's view.

Peering over his shoulder saw the rope around his wrists went up to his neck. It was wrapped around his neck. Then it went to April's death shrouded body. Sighing wished he could change the past, but he can't.

"Stop being sorry for yourself," Rath thought, "You pulled the trigger. Now play the hand dealt."

Studying his surroundings, the four riders went north, if Rath could trust his sense of direction. The sun was setting, so he would go east. East remained his direction until coming to the water pool.

Now he tried staying on his horse, who chose the direction to go.


	20. Rescue

Rescue

Rath's headhung low. Sleep was trying to claim him. Sleep to him means death.

Suddenly the horse collapsed. White form covered the animal's skin. Its tongue hung out form its mouth.

Rath pulled his leg out from under the dying animal. Unwrapping the rope from the saddle horn, Rath crawled closer. Swallow breathing came from this wonderful animal.

"Heart finally gave out," remarked Rath.

Removing the shooter from the right hostler checked the chamber. No bullet. Rehostlered it.

Removed the left, again checked the chamber.

"They did leave a bullet," he chuckled.

Putting it in his right hand, "Sorry," aiming, "Already saved one," pulling the trigger, "Again I live in hell," draping himself over the horse.

Turning himself around, his slightly opened eyelids allowed the sun to glared into his eyes.

"He's alive," was barley heard by Rath.

A face blocked out the sun. The rope was wrapped from his throat. The face was coming in clearer.

"Arthur," he whispered, "Joining me in hell."

"How much ammo did you have left?" asked Arthur.

"One bullet for the horse."

"Shooting the horse saved you. Would've missed you if it wasn't for the sound of the shot."


	21. Pieces Coming Together

Pieces Coming Together

"Well, how's he doing?" asked Edwards without looking up to the entering Cob.

"Lucky that we had a patrol near his location ending his baking in the sun. Besides a fever from unknown poison to every known torture method done to him, he'll live," answered Cob, "He had to be chained down. During the fever, he attacked the healers."

"Good," getting up, "he'll survive," Edwards said walking away from his desk.

Following Edwards, "Good? One gunslinger's dead."

Stopping at a stone altar, "Gunslingers die. Its part of their life."

"Miss Rivera wasn't just some woman from a village. She was a member of the Dream Ravens."

Circling the altar, "Yes, her connection with the sandwalkers will be lost," said Edwards wavering his fingers as he swept his hand above the altar.

A map of the Territories appeared on the altar's surface.

"Rath said it was a trap and you sent them there."

"You believe that I sent them to die, Cob," Edwards said staring at the map.

"Does Death, War, Pestilence, and Famine sound familiar?"

Edwards's face shot up from the map and stayed on Cob.

"They been giving you restless nights,"commented Cob.

"They're part of a plot."

Turning and laying his right hand on Cob's left shoulder, "Know those two are closer to you then any other students. Those four weren't post to be in Deadwood. Reports had them in Draco."

"Rath reported Deadwood already was dead before they arrived."

Turning back to the map, "They're accelerating their plans," commented Edward, "Cob, the world we know is dying."

"So it's moving on."

"Moving on?" Edwards chuckled, "Look at the borders of the Wastelands."

Cob watched the small area of the Wastelands grow slowly then it accelerated to its present size.

"First, it started out naturally slowly," explained Edwards, "Then exploded," grabbing Cob by his shoulders, added, "Rath's part of our savalation."

Crossing his arms, "How does Ferisulf figure in this grand savalation?" asked Cob.

"Trust the word of man with aegri somnia." pale faced Edwards said.

Staring into Edwards's eyes, "How dare you lie to me after all this years?" grabbing Edwards's wrists, "Rath yelled that name in pain," removing Edwards's hands from his shoulders, "What did you do to him?" pushing Edwards's hands away.

Turning, Edwards's back faced Cob.

Staring at Edwards's back, "I believed the story he fell through a doorway and his memory wiped clean. Convinced him that he was orphaned. Now find out we both were lied to."

"Desperate times call for desperate measures."

"Ruining lives for your selfish means. How can you justified that?"

"So I did a soul transfer."

Grabbing Edwards's shoulders and turning him around, "You transferred Ferisulf into Rath?"

"Yes."

Getting close into Edwards's face, "A guardian of beam inside a mortal," inches from Edwards's nose, "What were you thinking?"

"He said it would help."

"Ferisulf wanted this. He would bite the hand that helps him and you listened."

Stepping back and letting Cob's hands fall to his side, "Cob, we known each other since the Sci-Mage Wars."

"Those scarred this world and many others. The suffering witnessed by this ancient eyes don't compare to the gunslingers's missions."

Placing his right hand on Cob's shoulder, "We both witnessed the same thing. That is why any preventive means must be done."

Staring at Edwards's hand then brushed it away, "Edwards when this war's over. We will go our separate path," walking out the room.


	22. Duel with Death

Duel with Death

A thick iron pot's bottom grew dents. The dents were made by rapidly shot bullets. The bullets came from Rath's shooter. Emptying the chamber, Rath stopped fanning the hammer. Seeing the dents, Rath put down his shooter on the med table.

Flexing his fingers, "Aim good," he thought, "but the fingers need a workout," sliding off the stone bed.

His feet hit the stone floor. Pain shot through his body. His knees nearly buckled. His hands caught the top of table. Regaining his balance walked towards the iron pot.

His fingers moved over the bulge. Most the bullets hit the general area.

Hearing clapping behind him, he turned and brought his attention to the top of the stairs.

Walking down the stairs, "The fever didn't destroy your skills," said Cob.

"Still need improvement," stated Rath.

Getting to the bottom of the stairs, April's ashes returned to the sandwalkers," commented Cob walking towards Rath.

Gunslingers that die are cremated. Their final wishes on how to depose the ashes are carried out.

"That's what she wanted," agreed Rath.

Stopping in front of Rath, "What are you going to do?" asked Cob.

"Get better and carry on my duty."

"No revenge?"

"Worry about that when my path across with those four."

"Could send you to Gilead?"

"Fardo needs less worries not more."

Nodding in acceptation, Cob turned and started up the stairs. Rath followed. Rath felt Cob wanted to add more, but didn't. He decided not to push it, there was so much Rath could push from Cob. If it was important, Cob would talk about it.

Opening of the door allowed light to hit Rath's eyes. Shielding them with his hand, they adjusted in time as they walked across the courtyard towards the living quarters.

"The coward lives," stopped their feet.

Turning, Rath saw a familiar face. It was Death beside him was Russell.

"Russell, what is this slander I just heard?" asked Cob.

"This gunslinger has a charge against Rath, Cob," remarked Russell.

"That's no gunslinger, that's Death," stated Rath, "or is it Mort?"

"It doesn't matter either way," answered Mort smiling, "Good to see that the sun didn't bake your memory," crossing his arms, "How you survived the Wastelands," shrugging his shoulders, "Anyone's guess."

"What's this slander against Rath?"

"Cob, Dinh gunslinger, simply really, a dual with Rath. Might be tough for him since putting bullets into women's skulls is more his style."

Turning towards Rath, "Rath, you're not ready," stated Cob.

"Cob, being ready part of a gunslinger's life, cluding facing death," facing his opponent, "Let's dual, Mort."

Sighing, Cob walked towards Russell who did the same thing. They might in the center then turned and walked towards the side. Cob looked at Rath then Mort.

"Gunslingers ready?" Cod announced.

Both removed the leather latch from the hammers.

"Count of three, lift and pull triggers," looking at the dueling gunslingers, "1…," fingers flexed, "2...," eyes stared at each other, "3…," hands went to the handles and triggers pulled.

Rath head whip lashed backwards as his bullet entered Death. Back of his head bounced off the stone surface of the courtyard. Blood ran from Rath's forehead.

Running, "Rath!" yelled Cob picking up Rath's head, "Traitorous Russell allowing this monster into Terra."

A second shot sent Cob backwards. Rath stared up unable to move. Footsteps walked towards him. Staring down at him was Mort. In his hand, something bounced up and down.

"The bullet," thought Rath.

"Cob was right you were not ready. Wastelands really did hurt you," stated Death.


	23. Deathof a Judge

Death of a Judge

Rubbing his eyes, Edwards's worries increased. Cob was dead. Rath was accursed of this act as he was recovering from a removed bullet that entered through his forehead in a jail cell.

Studying the passage, he was entering in the ledger. A knock came from his door interrupted his writing.

Getting up, "Coming," walking towards and opening the door, "Yes."

A fist slammed into his face, sending him backwards into a table. Hands grabbed his robe and lifted him up. A fist went against his stomach. He was thrown against the stone altar. Turned around, a forearm pressed against his throat.

Entering the room and closing the door, "Bravo to this show of brutality," said the clapping figure walking towards the pinned Edwards.

"Marlin," chocked Edwards.

"Good you remember."

"How could I forget you turning against the order?"

"Those old men worried about keeping their position in society. Their power was used to keep their bones warm at night," picking up the ledger from the floor, "Where's Ferisulf?"

Color left Edwards's face.

"My master's not happy that Ferisulf disappeared. Since it seems that a couple doorways have been opened," flipping through some pages, "Not talking. Fine. Death doesn't care," placing the ledger beside Edwards's head, "Death please note what he says as his tongue is ripped out," walking away.

Unsheathing a knife, light reflected off the blade as it inched towards Edwards's mouth.


	24. Aftermath

Aftermath

A turning key opened the lock of cell door. Hinges creaked as the door swung opened.

"Put these on," ordered a voice.

Shackles landed at Rath's feet.

Staring at the shackles, "The judges decided, Arthur?"

"Exile into the Wastelands by the order of Dinh Judge St Thompson."

"What happened to Edwards?"

"Killed himself instead of judging you. Now put them on, Rath."

Putting the shackles on, "Time to play through this hand," Rath remarked standing up.

Death studied the around him. Bodies of gunslingers littered the scenic view. If the bullets didn't get them, poisoned food, drink and the air would've finished them.

Walking whistling with clasped hands behind him, this was a good day. Stopping rocked on his feet.

"Hmm," seeing a red hair sticking out among the dead bodies.

Unsheathing his knife, grabbing a fist full of hair, and lifting up, the blade sliced through the neck.

Holding the head up and studying the features in the remaining flames that was burning Terra, "Alas poor Russell, thought he was moving up in the world. Instead lost his head on the first day on the job and now is going to feed worms instead of feeding youths' minds."

Hoofs raced towards caused his attention to fall on his three comrades.

"Let Rusty's ears hear about the one that got away.

No answer.

"Well?"

"Think we got him," said War.

"Think?"

"We chased him to a river. Shot at him. A bullet entered his back. Fell into the river."

"No body?"

War shook his head in acknowledgement.

Looking into Rusty's dead eyes, "See what I've got to work with," looking for understandment from the head, "Tell me, Rusty. How many do you work with? Hundreds? Thousands?" turning the face towards the three, "This three killed your thousands. Not good on you first day," turning the head towards him, "I'll take this three over your thousands any day even if they let one of thousand get away," putting Rusty's lips to his right ear, "Oh, Rusty, you're such a sore loser," throwing the head towards Famine, "Famine smooth his wounded ego."

Catching it, "Let's kiss to make it all better," kissing his lips.

Laughing, she threw it into the air. War and Pestilence shot it as it sailed through the air.

"Where's the next site?" asked Pestilence.

"Digal," Death answered getting on his horse.

"We need some rest," complained Famine, "Doing one after another."

"Think they're complaining of our workload," gesturing to the dead, "Vermin are going to chew on their and you complain about too much work."

Famine shrink as Death continued, "Some people's problems are bigger then yours. How selfless of you?"

"Sorry."

"Besides this job have benefits," remarked Death spurred his horse. They rode away from the smoking Terra.

"Welcome back, Brother Marten," greeted the clocked holy man.

"Greetings, Walter," bowing Marten, "Any news during my absence?"

"A wounded gunslinger from Terra arrived."

"What did his tongue say?"

"Terra destroyed and the judges are died."

"One obstacle gone. Did he name names?"

"Died in Cort's arms."

Seeing puzzlement in Marten's face, "That's Fardo's son."

"Seems they're slipping."

"Are they coming here?"

"No, Digal's on their path. Something to add."

"Cort's asking to increase the number of gunslingers cause of Terra."

"The king's decision?"

"Waiting for you."

Smiling, "Well there's a wise ruler," Marten said walking through the door.

Rath buckled his holsters on that Arthur threw at his feet. Checked his shooters. Oil coated their joints. Picking up the canteen shook it. Something sloshed around in it. Screwing the cap off put his finger inside the canteen. Pulling his finger out tasted the clear liquid on his finger. It was water. Rescrewing the cap on and slinging it on his shoulder, he studied the landscape.

He was back where he started in the wastelands. Choosing a direction, he walked towards a setting sun. (Fin)


End file.
